A Christmas in Azkaban
by lezonne
Summary: Hermione's spent way too long in her cell in Azkaban, hiding from the world. Draco promises to take her with him when he gets out. A Christmas spent in Azkaban. Now complete.
1. Chapter 1

**A/n:** This was written for the Scroogmas competition on LJ months ago, and I honestly don't remember if I ever even posted it. But I really liked this story, and I wanted to post it for someone to enjoy. It's a little out of date now since it was themed around Christmas, but here it is. Thanks to my lovely beta **lozipozivanillabean**!

Edited April 4, 2016.

**A Christmas Spent in Azkaban**

Day 47

She reached up and touched her lips, dry and parched from being in her prison for so long. She counted the days like she'd seen prisoners do in the movies when she was very young; chalk marks on a wall. Each day she drew one mark, counting when the briefest ray of light rested above her cell once a day. She has forty-six marks so far.

When would they come for her?

If she listened to the man in the cell next to her, then they were never coming. But she wouldn't listen to his negativity, even when there didn't seem to be any hope left. As she drew the forty-seventh mark, she heard him speak.

"Almost two months now Granger. That's a long time for no one to find you."

"Yaxley was killed during the final battle," she replied dryly. "He's the one that brought me here, thinking I would be easy to come get later. He never got the chance. But they can't ask him where I am now because he's dead. Someday they'll find me here."

"Someday could mean forever, you know. Those friends of yours aren't the brains of the Golden Trio- you were. How long will it take for them to realise you're in Azkaban? This isn't a place anyone will suspect. Prisoners stay here Granger, not people like you."

"They're going to find me Malfoy," she whispered. She hated when he started acting like this, when he got close to breaking down her hope. "They just need more time."

"How will they find you? There are hundreds of cells in Azkaban. The dementor's don't speak, so they won't give away the secret. The Ministry thinks they know exactly who's here, but they easily forget and the records they keep aren't very good. They don't care so much who's rotting here. The Ministry is mainly concerned about trying to straighten things out after the war." He chuckled, the hollow sound bouncing off their creaky cells. "You should've been there Granger. It was an absolute mess."

"Yes, I should've been." Her tone, filled with remorse and hate, didn't quite match the anger in his. He was locked here for a reason, she was locked here for something she didn't do. "Instead I was here, wasting away without a wand to break free. Even my wandless magic couldn't do the trick. Considering some of the people who passed by before the Order won, the people using Azkaban as a hidden route, maybe I'm glad that I could hide in the shadows and no one could see me. Some of those Death Eaters were positively malicious. If they saw me I probably wouldn't be alive."

"No, probably not."

They lapsed into silence, the same silence that often filled the space between them. Hermione grew used to this exchange over time, the conversations between them only spriging up occasionally and lasting for short spurts of time. If he hadn't been so vocal about his imprisonment when he arrived, she wouldn't have known it was him for days. If the cells weren't in such utter decay, held together only by the ancient magic used to keep people trapped, then it would've been hard to distinguish him from anyone else. Save for the decomposed hole between them, there was no way for the pair to communicate. Oddly enough, she was grateful for the hole between their cells, because it allowed them to talk. Before his arrival she'd been all alone, suffocating in the silence. Even it he was a pain, he was a pain she could hear and converse with. His presence, however misplaced, kept her from slipping off the edge into insanity.

"I think we're due for dinner soon," she said after a while.

"I think you're right. Hopefully they'll start throwing blankets or heat spells in here. It's frigid."

"I agree."

This part of the conversation she could handle. When they spoke of nothing of importance, when they just talked about the nothingness, she could handle those moments. It was when he started taunting her about her friends who hadn't yet come, that she wanted to shut him out.

Only when he was kind was he okay, and those moments seemed to be few and far between. Bitterness hung in his every word, laced into each sentence he bothered to grace her with in the stretching hours of boredom. The war had changed Malfoy, though she didn't quite know what did the trick. War changes everything, and although she now knew the Order won, she didn't know what exactly made the blond boy so bitter. She wasn't even sure what he exactly did to get into Azkaban, other than work with Voldemort. He told her that Harry, surprisingly, testified on his behalf. But it wasn't enough to get him out of a years' worth of time in Azkaban. What he did she didn't know, and she wasn't too excited about asking. Maybe it was better if she didn't know at all.

Rolling on her side, she ignored the dirty floor as best she could. She needed to try and get some sleep.

* * *

Day 52

"So Ron survived then?" She'd voiced this question a thousand times, at first jumping with silent joy when she discovered the truth. Now she asked out of routine, needing the confirmation that things were still right in the world. If Ron and Harry survived, then all hope wasn't lost.

"Oh yes, your bloody boyfriend's still alive. He was searching madly for you the last time I saw him."

She felt the briefest of smiles tugging at her lips, and she reached up to brush her fingers over them. She could still remember his last kiss, the last one they shared before she was taken. She'd remember that moment of bliss forever. It might be the last one she'll ever have. But knowing Ron was out there, stressing himself to search unsuccessfully for her, broke her heart. If he couldn't find her, would he eventually give up?

"Do you think he might still be searching?"

Malfoy was silent for a long time on the other side of the wall. Hermione often asked him this question, even if he couldn't possibly know the answer. He never responded right away. "I don't know Granger. A lot was changing even then. People were grieving, some more than others. I can't even guess what Weasley would be doing right now, or Potter either. I just don't know."

Hermione pursed her lips. "Well, thank you."

"For what?" He sounded perplexed, even through the wall. She imagined white-blond eyebrows rising on his head, probably dirty from the terrible conditions they were given. After all this time, she hadn't thanked him for telling her anything. Now, for the first time, she felt like she needed to.

"For telling me something good. There's still a sliver of hope that Ron might still want me when... when I get out of here."

He was quiet, thinking over the tremor in her voice when she spoke. Despite the hand she'd been dealt, she still remained positive, trying to see the light in a terrible situation. "Maybe," he said finally, the words guarded. "I don't know what goes on inside his head Granger."

"I know. But at least now I can hope for something, right?"

He scoffed. "Don't hope too hard. Remember, people think you're dead. It's hard to hope for someone to come back who has already passed."

Hermione frowned, his words sinking down inside her. Just when she thought they might have a civil conversation, he had to go and ruin things. "I guess you're right," she said quietly, her voice growing smaller as she spoke. Falling into silence, she pulled at her ratty stockings. She was captured while the Order was still planning the final stages of the war. Unprepared for an attack, she changed out of her comfortable jeans that day, instead donning an old school skirt and stockings that happened to be in her bag. She'd been wearing them since, and they'd gotten pretty destroyed, both from being captured and from the grimy floor she slept upon.. They did nothing to keep her warm, and even less to protect her skin from the rough ground and walls. There were so many holes they were practically useless now. But she hadn't tried to strip them off yet. Why get rid of the only protective barrier she had?

"Who do you have waiting for you when you get out?" she asked after a while, unable to sit in the silence for too long. For many minutes he didn't respond, and she wondered if maybe he'd gone to sleep.

"I don't have anyone waiting for me Granger," he said quietly, his voice cracking over each word. She could hear him gulp through the wall, and scooted closer to hear his every word. "My mother was killed in the Battle of Hogwarts, the final battle, and my father was given the Kiss shortly thereafter. I was engaged to one of the Greengrass sisters years ago in an arranged-marriage, but when I was sentenced to one year in Azkaban, she came and told me that she'd rather not be associated with me now that I have such a bad record- which is fine with me. I never really looked forward to marrying her. I didn't need her anyway."

She pursed her lips, wondering what could possibly make the stoic Draco Malfoy confess something like that about his parents, never mind the extra regarding his former wife-to-be. There didn't seem to be anything she could say to right the situation."I'm sorry about your parents."

"Don't be Granger. I've long since gotten over it. I've had lots of time to sit in this cell thinking about it as it is." There was the bitterness again, intertwined into his every word. Now however, Hermione understood some of his pain.

"Still Malfoy, it hurts to lose both of your parents. I know the feeling."

Malfoy scoffed, shifting on the other side of the wall. "How could you possibly know the feeling Granger? Your parents are probably out there just like every other thick headed imbecile, looking in vain for you."

She took a breath, ignoring the clear jibe at her friends and family. "Before the war this year, before seventh year and before Harry, Ron and I took off to go searching for Horcrux's I wiped my parent's memories and sent them away from Britain to keep them safe."

For a moment he paused, obviously surprised she'd share such a secret with the likes of him. "That's... very noble. It's also a big sacrifice on your part. Do you think you'll ever go get them and revive their memories, wherever they are?"

"If I ever get out of this cell." She sighed, shivering in the cold. "Well, they brought us food but forgot the blankets. Think we'll get some tomorrow?" She tried to joke about the matter, but a cool gust of wind blew through the poorly insulated cells, causing her teeth to chatter.

"Maybe. Granger, what exactly are you wearing?"

Apparently, her chattering was more obvious than she expected. She paused a moment, staring at the wall as though it'd just produced a clown painting. "Does that matter?"

"It's bitter outside. I'm just curious if Yaxley left any of your clothing intact."

She blushed at his words, thankful he couldn't see how uncomfortable she suddenly was. They'd been sharing a wall for weeks now and he never gave a damn until right now. "Yes Malfoy, he did, thankfully. I have stockings, though they are now mostly torn up now, what's left of a skirt and my shirt. It's pretty bloody cold, not that it matters, but thanks for asking."

He chuckled at the sarcasm in her tone, a sound he hadn't heard in ages. "That's all? You didn't even bring a jumper to try and stay warmer?"

"Remember Malfoy, I wasn't sentenced here, I was abducted. By all rights I shouldn't be here at all. Yet here I am. It's not like he gave me some time to pack the necessities."

"Yet here you are," he echoed, seeming to null the words over.

"I didn't have the luxury of grabbing an extra jumper before Yaxley and your Aunt stole me away," she continued, the words tumbling out. "She gave him the job of hiding me, and he did to damn good of a job. Anyway, they should bring blankets in the next few days. I've read about Azkaban before. The dementor's have to ensure that there are no unneeded deaths."

"I see." Silence settles over them again, and Hermione attempts to make herself as comfortable as she can on the dirty floor, rubbing her thighs for warmth.

Minutes later she hears something being pushed through the gap between their cells. Rolling over she panics, fearing that the dementors have discovered their communication route and decided to cover it up. If she was left all alone in this place again, she'd surely lose her mind.

"Granger, stop crying in there," he snaps, unable to handle a mental breakdown. "It's just a bloody jumper."

She paused, reaching forward until she felt the soft material. Snatching it up, she wrapped the jumper around as much of her body as she could, sighing contently at the warmth. But he shouldn't be giving her his things- right?

"Why?" she asked a minute or so later when she was comfortable again. "Won't you get cold now Malfoy?"

"I'm wearing a lot more than you are Granger," he says, his voice dreary with sleep. "It's less likely that I'll freeze to death. Keep the bloody jacket; I'm fine."

She smiled into the material, marveling at the warmth. "You're not the same heartless Pureblood I remember from the war. You've certainly changed in the last month since coming here. You've even grown nicer since you arrived. A week ago you would've told me to bugger off."

"I changed long before then Granger."

When he doesn't elaborate, she drops the topic. They've come to know when to stop asking each other questions.

* * *

Day 81

"What day did you come here Malfoy?"

"I don't know. I was sentenced on the sixth of October, and brought here on the seventh."

"It's Christmas."

There's some shifting o nthe other side of the wall, as though he's attempting to process what she said."Beg pardon?"

"Today's Christmas Malfoy. I was trying to do the math, but I don't remember what day I came here. So, I subtracted the days until you got here, and then added from there. Today's December 25th."

"And we're spending it in Azkaban," he muttered.

"Yes."

"With each other."

"Yes."

"By talking through a hole in the wall between our cells. How pathetically sad."

Hermione scoffed. "Well, it's definitely never how I imagined spending any of my Christmas's."

"At least now we have blankets."

"Yes, thin little pieces of fabric that barely fight off the cold. I think mine might be moldy."

"They're better than nothing," he chuckled, obviously finding humor in her discomfort. On some level, she thought it should be the other way around. Where did his stingy personality go?

"I suppose." She reached up and played with the old ribbon that held her hair back. Technically, her ribbon was a makeshift piece of fabric that she tore off her shredded stocking and used to keep her hair back, but no one had to know that.

"Happy Christmas Granger."

She froze at his words, uncertain what to say next. "Excuse me?"

"Happy Christmas. If we can only celebrate with one another in these rank little cells, then we may as well make the most of it."

"Oh, right. Well, Happy Christmas to you too Malfoy."

It was weird to wish Malfoy a happy anything. Only a few months ago, she couldn't stand him. Now, he was like her only friend in the world.

At least, the only friend who knew she was alive.

"What's your wish for Christmas?" he asked a few minutes later. Again she was surprised by what he said. He rarely brought up conversations first.

"My wish? I think that's self-explanatory Malfoy. I want to get out of Azkaban."

"Fair enough."

She sighed. "And what's your wish then? The same thing?"

"Not at all Granger. In a year I go free. I can wait that long if I have to. My wish would be quite different."

"Well, what would it be then? Go on, don't be shy. It's not like I'm going to go off and tell someone. It'll stay between you and me."

He hesitated for a moment. "I'd wish my mother back to life."

She froze for a third time. There he went again, surprising her with statements she didn't expect. While her wish was needy and desperate, his was heartfelt and warranted through pain that she only vaguely understood. They were both wishing for the things they wanted most.

Hermione had never realised he cared so much about his mother. She thought the relationship between Draco and his father was stronger, but maybe that's only because he was constantly talking about telling Lucius things when he was younger and didn't get his way.

She was sitting directly next to the hole today, blankets wrapped around her body. She glanced down to where she knew the hole was, a brief flicker of daylight having shown her its location more than once. Reaching her hand through, she cleared her throat.

"Come sit by the hole, Malfoy."

"Why?"

"Just do it- please."

They never asked each other to do things, never. But today he listened. She could hear him shifting around on the other side of the wall, until he finally spoke again.

"I almost crushed your hand with my foot."

"It wouldn't be the worst thing that's ever happened to me Malfoy. Now grab hold."

"Why?"

"Because, everyone should be with someone at Christmas. And all we have is each other. We might as well make the best of it."

There was the briefest pause of hesitation before his hand fell into hers. Hermione gave his hand a squeeze, and he squeezed back. It was the only connection she'd had to another human in three months.

She rested her head back against the wall, feeling the tears roll down her face. She wanted to be out of there more than anything else. But in that moment, she'd readily take Malfoy's comfort. They needed each other to stay alive at this point. It was the only way they wouldn't end up like Bellatrix and Lucius and everyone else who ever spent time in Azkaban.

"Granger?"

"Hmm?" She didn't dare speak for fear that her voice might crack.

"I'll get out of here in October, unless I get out earlier, like in August. When I was sentenced, my friend Blaise was already working to get another trial and might get me out earlier. Whenever I get out of here, I'd like to bring you with me if possible."

"What?" She didn't drop his hand, but pulled away from the wall, staring at the black space where she assumed his face would be on the other side. "You won't be able to."

"Not the day I leave, no. But Potter and Weasley will readily jump at the idea that you're alive and hidden. If they don't, I'll come back and get you out myself. You're not technically a prisoner. You don't have to stay here."

Her breath hitched. "What if the dementor's don't let me out?"

"The dementors answer to the Ministry now. I'll get a note or something, I don't know. But you don't need to remain here. Besides, when I'm gone, you'll have no one left to talk to. I can't leave you like that for long."

"Afraid I might get a little loopy?"

"I'm afraid you'll lose your fucking mind. My father lost his for a bit after his first stint in Azkaban. My Aunt came out of this place an absolute demonic nut-job. Without each other, we wouldn't have made it this far. You've kept me sane in this rotting dungeon Granger. I won't just leave you here to rot. And when Potter and Weasley have an idea of where you are, I'm sure they won't leave you here alone either."

Merlin, she hoped not. She desperately kept hoping that they would come for her. "Okay then. But Malfoy?"

"What?"

"I'll agree to your deal if you agree to mine. If for some strange reason my friends do figure out where I've been hiding, then I want you to come with me. If you refuse to leave me here, then I sure as hell won't leave you."

"Are you sure Potter and Weasley won't be offended that you're bringing someone like me along?"

"I don't care if they are. You'll be coming with me. Now, do you accept my deal? If you do, I'll accept yours."

"Then it's a deal Granger. We're both going to get out of this place, someday."

* * *

Things changed on day 189 for Hermione. Draco was thrown a letter from the Ministry with his food, and she sat on her side of the wall waiting to hear what he had to say.

It took him a long time to say anything to her. He kept trying to stop the dementor's, to get them to listen to something he needed to say. They wouldn't listen. Eventually, he sat down beside the hole, letting off a slew of curses.

"What was all that about?" she asked, sitting eagerly to hear what had happened. Nothing exciting or new had happened since Malfoy became her neighbour.

"They've upped my release date," he muttered, though he didn't sound happy about it.

"Malfoy, that's great! When is it?"

"No Granger, it's not great at all."

"What? Why not? You should be excited to get out of here."

"Granger, a Ministry official is coming."

Her eyes widened. "That's even better! That means-"

"It means that the bastard probably won't believe a word I say," the blond spat, surprising her. "It might come as a surprise to you Granger, but I'm really not the Ministry's favorite person. They don't listen to me most of the time. If I tell them you're in the cell next to me, they might not believe me and they might leave _without _you."

Her face paled. They both knew from the beginning that it was unlikely that they could leave together, but the hear the realization with such finality from the man who'd been her cellmate for so long was heartbreaking. "Well then, I'll… I'll just scream. Whoever comes will have to listen then!"

"Yeah, if they aren't a dense fucker. Granger, the Ministry's quite tight-lipped these days. And they really don't listen to anything anyone has to say. If they don't believe me, they might not believe you even if you are screaming. Anyone could live in that cell since their records are shitty. They won't take my word for it unless we can prove it. And since the Ministry is all about not wasting time, they aren't going to come over here and check your cell. I bet you they ignore your cries, since anyone who even spots them walking around in here is going to beg to be released."

She felt panic setting in. He was going to leave her. The person who'd been with her for months was going to leave her all alone here. Sure, they made a deal, but once Malfoy was free of Azkaban would he even think twice of her? Would he even tell her friends? She withdrew from the hole, moving to the opposite corner as she tucked her knees up tight towards her. She was getting afraid now.

"I'm sorry Granger, I really am. I'll do everything I can to get you out of here as soon as possible."

"Thanks," she replied, though her voice was strained. Doubt clouded her mind again. Would he really come back just for her?

* * *

Day 190

She was alone. The Ministry worker came to get Malfoy, and didn't pay a second thought to her cries or Draco telling him who she was. He ignored the both of them like a jerk.

And he was gone. Her friend was gone now. In the minutes following his absence, Hermione was surprised to find herself crying.

She wasn't supposed to be attached to Malfoy. But they'd become attached to each other and learned to lean on each other for support in this situation. Without her support column, she collapsed.

A small part of her mind kept saying that he wouldn't come back. No one would ever come back for her. She tried to force that part away, afraid of having it cloud her whole mind. She wouldn't go insane after only a few hours.

Hermione refused to go insane at all.

* * *

Day 231

It took Draco longer to get back to Hermione than he ever planned. When he got out of Azkaban he was hounded by reporters, swamped in bills that he needed to pay, and left in charge of everything his father and family ever owned. He had to straighten out his own life.

He did those things in his free time, which wasn't often, as he was focused on getting Hermione out of Azkaban.

She had been there forty-one days longer than he had. He wasn't sure what kind of toll that would take on her mind. He wasn't even sure how she would react to seeing him again.

He knew one thing though; it had taken way too long.

At first her friends had thought he was playing a cruel joke. But when he broke down, _the_ Draco Malfoy cried and broke down and told them that they were fools for not going back to help their friend, Harry and Ron started having second thoughts. He was contacted by the pricks a week after he told them she was alive, saying that they believed him and would go to the Ministry with him to get her out. It took them way too long in his opinion.

One could not just march up to Azkaban and demand that someone be set free. A dementor might eat your soul for that, you might die, or be left extremely scarred by what a dementor could do to you to make you turn back. Draco knew nothing would be accomplished by going that route.

It took a lot of bribery from his personal funds to get the Ministry to let the trio go back and get her. Each day he wondered how far she was slipping down the path of insanity, and how long it would take her to break. Each day, he prayed she could just hold out a little longer…

Today on her 231st day in Azkaban, he was going back to get her. Potter and Weasley came along, following him down the same path he'd walked twice, both eager and frightened to see their long lost friend who'd been gone for over six months. They weren't sure how she would be after all this time.

Draco led their little group, his heart hammering with every step he took. He too was afraid of what he was going to find.

When the door to her cell opened he was the first one inside, crouching down beside Hermione's body, which was curled up on herself. The woman who he shared many conversations with for weeks at first pushed him away, shielding her eyes from the unfamiliar light. He threw his wand into his pocket, forcing them back into darkness, and then picked her up.

She trembled in his arms.

"I'm sorry Granger," he whispered, slowly rocking her back and forth in his arms. "I'm sorry it took me so long to come back."

Her only response was a squeak, and he squeezed her closer to his body at the sound. She didn't appear insane, at least not right now. But that didn't make him feel any better. She was still damaged by the experience of being left alone.

Because he left her all alone. He should've written a letter to the Ministry in his own blood explaining the situation the same day the note was delivered. Maybe then she wouldn't have spent forty-one days all alone in this hell.

"I'm sorry Hermione," he whispered, kissing her forehead. "I'm so sorry."

He didn't expect a response from her, but when Hermione's voice broke through the sound of his soft cries he heard her loud and clear. "I forgive you, Draco."


	2. Chapter 2

AN: Edited April 5, 2016.

Day 235

The next time Hermione woke up it was to the blinding luminescence of light. For many moments she scrambled to cover her eyes, avoiding the harsh rays. It didn't register where she was.

Then everything slammed back into her subconscious at once.

Draco, he came back for her. After forty-some days of doubting his return he came back. She lost hope after a month, deciding he had moved on with his life. Why would he bother coming back for her? Whether she was dead or alive, insane or sane did not affect his life. It was a cruel type of reality to accept that she was never getting out, that he had so easily forgotten her. It was then her sanity started to slip.

And then he returned with his soft whispers and his promises. It was so different from the rough, cruel words he spat at her during all those days they shared a wall, striking down her hopes with his negativity day by day. When he came back, he was so surprisingly different from the person he'd been when he was dragged from his cell. The man who came back to Azkaban lacked the negativity, the self loathing she'd grown accustomed to overtime. Maybe she had been a fool to doubt him in the first place.

Past his initial arrival though, Hermione couldn't recall much of anything. She remembered exchanging a few words of apology and forgiveness with him before blacking out, but nothing else registered in her mind. She didn't even recall if he came back for her alone or not. Everything was a blur of sudden light, and then the dizziness of being thrown back into blackness.

Rubbing her eyes several times she attempted to get see exactly where she was. After six months of miniscule light and stones for a bed she was having a hard time adjusting to this new landscape. The light was too much for her, and the soft bed beneath her body cradled her form in ways she had missed more than she liked to admit.

"Glad to see you're awake, Granger."

Despite her eagerness to open her eyes to the familiar voice, she just couldn't do it. The light really was bothering her, and she found that to be frightening. All she wanted to do was look out and see everything about the magical world she so dearly missed.

"I'll turn down the lights a little. I told those two buffoons you wouldn't want this much light after being condemned to darkness. But oh no, no one listens to me." There it was, the bitterness she'd grown so used to in Azkaban.

She blinked, shielding her eyes with her hands as she slowly tried to open them again. "Harry and Ron were here?"Her voice was scratchy and weak, and she realized she hadn't had anything proper to drink in months. When her sanity started slipping in Azkaban, it became more of a habit to spill her water when it was given than to actually drink.

It was somewhat sad that she knew he was talking about her friends, the two people she longed to see for so many sleepless nights in Azkaban. Now she was awake, stepping out of her isolation, and they weren't even there to see it.

"Yes, the two nitwits," he scoffed, sounding less and less compelled to continue the conversation, "Usually they are always in here, neglecting their jobs and trying to cope with the reality that you are back. They finally disappeared for a little while today, unable to delay life anymore, and I came for a visit."

"You three can't visit together?" she asked, though it sounded like a stupid question. Of course none of them could sit in a room together and handle it. Why would she expect that? Clearing her throat as best she could, she tried again. "Are they coming back?"

"Oh, probably rather soon. A Healer will arrive in a moment once they realize you're up. Once the news of you being awake gets out you'll never know peace again." She heard some shuffling nearby, and before she really knew what was happening a glass, smooth and light, was shoved into her hand. Propped up against the pillows she had just enough leverage to take a sip, marveling at his warm, surprising touch against the back of her head as she sipped the water, wonderfully cool against her throat. Once she finished he stepped back again, the glass disappearing from her hand as he again retreated from her into the room. When she spoke again, her voice didn't sound quite so strangled this time.

"It can't be that big of a deal. I'm sure missing people have been found since the war."

"You assume a lot Granger," he said sadly, his voice softer than before. She thought she saw the light dimming further from between her fingers, but she couldn't be sure. "You're all anyone's been talking about the past four days."

"It's been four days?"

He shrugged, an action she was barely able to catch. She could just barely make out his silhouette against the lights. "The world thought you were dead, a mystery no one could solve. The fact that you're alive surprised everyone. Soon as you're out of this hospital everyone in Britain is going to attack you with questions about what happened. You'll be lucky to ever know peace again."

Hermione's head was beginning to hurt. The forming headache wouldn't let her completely process what he was saying. Sure, those things made sense in many ways, but she wasn't sure what to say about it. What was she even supposed to say to that?

The door opened as she covered up her fingers pressed tighter to her eyes. "You have a visitor Granger. I'll be back sometime, but your next set of guests will likely be your friends."

Someone said something else to her, but she couldn't really pick it up. She was lost focusing on Draco Malfoy and his strange behavior. If she remembered anything about the day she was set free from Azkaban, then she remembered that he had been there, soft spoken and kind. Now he was almost icy again.

Why did he call her Granger? After everything they went through together, after he called her _Hermione_, she thought she had earned a better spot in his mind than that.

It was too much to think about at the moment. With her mounting headache and the Healer in front of her asking questions she just couldn't focus. Closing her eyes, she nodded responses to the voice.

She could think about everything, but later. Right now if she overworked her head she feared she would just make herself sick.

* * *

"Hermione!"

The brunette woke with a start, hands shaking her body back into consciousness. The harsh lights of her room had been dimmed down from before, until little light existed at all. The large window to her right has been closed off and covered. This time the light was impactful, but not a blistering pain like before.

She gasped, closing her eyes to steady her breathing. The female voice that called out her name was very familiar.

"The water Ginny. We should give her some water. Merlin knows no one's been here since Harry and Ron left earlier. They'll never forgive us if she croaks."

The second voice was one that turned her stomach. A cup of water was shoved into her hand, not supporting her hold this time like Draco had, and she forced herself to sit up a bit to have a few gulps of the beverage, surprised how cool the liquid was once again. This time she choked on the drink, and someone quickly snapped it away.

Blinking her eyes several times, she tried to steady herself. Eventually she could focus on the two females in front of her.

Ginny and Lavender. She wasn't sure she could handle the two and their drama-filled antics right now. She might love the redhead like a sister, but Ron's former girlfriend was another story entirely. What she was doing here made her head hurt once again, and her mind began spinning with possibilities.

"Oh Hermione," Ginny sighed, sitting back down in her place beside the bed. She was kind of fuzzy, but the brunette would know her anywhere. "I'm so glad you're awake. It's been four days since they found you! We were so worried."

"You've been out for most of it," Lavender chipped in, standing further back. "A Healer said you woke earlier, but all you did was talk to him for a bit. I wish those boys hadn't left! They've been in this room as often as possible waiting for you to wake up. And imagine! We get to see your bright face before they do!" There was sarcasm dripping from her words, something unpleasant reaching through her that wasn't as happy to see Hermione as she let on.

_They don't even know about Draco being here earlier. I guess he requested to not be mentioned._

She attempted a smile, but it felt worn and forced. Ginny sent her an apologetic smile in return, reaching out to squeeze her hand in an act of comfort. Lavender's actions were less genuine, sending her an uncertain half-smile instead. She wasn't even sure the girl was happy she woke up.

"We were so worried," Ginny continued. "When Malfoy came back from Azkaban… well, he was babbling about you. People thought he had gone mad really. No one had seen you in six- practically seven- months. It seemed at first like he was playing a cruel joke; else he had seriously lost his bloody mind."

Hermione's enthusiasm wavered then. So her friends didn't believe she might return after all. They doubted Draco when he returned.

Ginny looked sheepishly down at the floor, avoiding her friends squinted eyes for a moment. "Hermione, there's nothing I can ever say or do to take back the fact that I doubted him - doubted you. We truly thought at first that it was just some sadistic game. Everyone… everyone was so heartbroken after everything it's hard to imagine a miracle like this. But when he started taking funds out of his vaults, investing his time in the Ministry until someone listened to him, things changed. He wouldn't go to those lengths if he was fucking around."

"He wouldn't have done anything in the first place if he was messing around!" she cried, though it came out raspy and broken. "You should have listened - given him the benefit of the doubt. He came back from the one place I am certain no one looked for me. Didn't you ever, even once, think maybe there was some truth to the matter?"

The ginger glanced away. "Hermione… you were a war hero. When you were considered dead… things here fell apart. The people that loved you…. they had a hard time accepting it. But that's not what made us afraid to hope for your return."

She sat silently, waiting for Ginny to go on. The woman looked troubled, staring at the ground as though she might cry. It seemed like a ploy for comfort for a moment.

"The Death Eater's that weren't caught yet made a fool of you," Lavender said, speaking up. Her voice was more leveled than Ginny's, and she looked less terrified of the topic. "They still thought they could rise up, build some sort of resistance. And that resistance could only exist if people like Harry were dead. So, they used you. The best friend of the boy who lived? It was too easy for them to distort you."

Hermione shifted uncomfortably, looking between the two females. "And what do you mean by distort?"

"Dehumanize," Ginny muttered, looking away. "I won't delve into the details Hermione, they made us all sick. You don't want to know about them. It will help you sleep better tonight not knowing. Just know that it was twisted, and it hurt us to the core. We thought you were dead, and these people rose up and tried to make a fool of you. It broke us down, your best friends. Most of them have been locked away, but I'm sure there are still some rogue Death Eater's out there somewhere."

She nodded dimly, thinking over Ginny's words. Too much was going on right now for her to process everything, and she didn't force the topic further. But the two women in front of her were very curious.

Neither cried. Neither looked exceptionally relieved that she was alive. Stunned and exhausted maybe, but she expected at least Ginny to cry in relief that she was alive. Instead they were both being calculated, educated, and blocking out some of their emotions. It almost felt like a fake conversation.

They had been there a while now conversing with her, but Hermione no longer wanted to listen to them. There was something fake about their presence, and she wasn't appreciating the calculated company as much as she would someone who got emotional over her return. They were laying out the facts but never really sharing their honest feelings. Even Ginny, one of her best friends, was holding back. She hadn't even offered to hug her.

She found herself wanting to talk to Malfoy, and that was surprising. Did she expect him to be a more interesting person to learn all the bloody details from? He wouldn't hold back, at least she didn't think so. He didn't seem like the type of person to cushion the blow.

Well, he was the only person to believe she was alive, the only person who came back for her. Then again, he was the only person who had concrete evidence that she was alive as well.

Still, something in her yearned to see what he had to say on these matters. If Ginny wouldn't be open with her, and Lavender wouldn't even show some real, human emotion for her, then she didn't quite know what to do with everything they were saying. She just wanted a little time alone to think.

"I'm tired," Hermione said at length, drawing both girls attention. "I need to rest. This is the longest I've been up since returning and it's wearing me out."

Lavender shrugged, accepting her answer without question. Ginny however was less deterred. "You don't want us to stay with you? The Healer's say you've been having dreadful nightmares."

"That happens when you're captured, locked away in a prison for months on end, and abandoned by your friends."

She could see that her words cut the ginger a little, who flinched and looked away in guilt. Lavender looked just as unmoved as before, barely raising an eyebrow at her jab.

"Harry and Ron will likely come by before I return," Ginny sighed, standing from her chair. "They are so eager to see you Hermione. Every time they've come by, you've been asleep for the entire visit. It's lucky that we caught you awake."

"I believe you woke me up from a nightmare."

Her ginger friend nodded again. "Right. Well, hopefully they will come back tonight. They so want to see you, to talk to you. They've both been beating themselves up about you since you disappeared. They were barely living with the idea that you were dead."

_Actually I think they are both doing pretty well off. I guess we'll find out when they finally arrive. If they've been here oh so often, then why have I only ever seen Ginny, Lavender and Draco?_

She nodded before closing her eyes, hoping it would signal to her friends that she did not want to speak anymore. The shuffling of feet and following closing door told her they understood, and she opened her eyes to an empty room.

_Finally. All I want is to rest and think. _

She rubbed the bridge of her nose, pondering what to do. Hopefully she would be alone for a while, and she could think of all the new things she was learning.

* * *

Day 240

Harry and Ron had come by every day since she had seen Ginny and Lavender, stopping in once a day for long periods of time to talk to her about her day, tell her about theirs, and to discuss what happened during her absence.

Things were shocking really. Learning of the deaths of people such as Tonks and Remus were devastating, but she was almost more upset that Yaxley had been killed as well. She could never get back at him for all that he put her through.

Even more upsetting, they were holding back names. They tried to act like they were sharing everything with her, but she could see it in their eyes, fuzzy or not. They were trying to protect her from some type of pain, something they felt she couldn't yet handle. She wished they would just come out with it already.

On her fifth day resting in the hospital she found herself at peace. Harry and Ron would not stop by today, they had already told her of a training they had to attend to. She had requested from them that they ask Lavender, Ginny and Luna to not return until tomorrow. Even Neville was asked to stay away. The very people she should want to see the most she wanted nothing to do with. Truth be told, she felt isolated and strange around them, as though she didn't know what to do with herself.

Well, maybe she didn't miss Lavender that much. The girl was a royal pain, and she was still hostile to the brunette every chance she got.

The fact of the matter was, Hermione felt different from her friends. The war ended several months ago, and aside from Hermione herself her friends knew what happened to pretty much everyone they had connections with during the war. She was learning everything at once, on top of having nightmares and trying to get better after her malnourishment and isolation in Azkaban.

And on her first day alone since arriving she got an unexpected visitor. It had been a long time since she had properly seen him- since before she was kidnapped really. The last time he was in her room, and when he picked her up from the prison floor, she hadn't really gotten a good look at the blond. But now she could see him clearly as he stepped uncertainly through the door.

It looked like he had aged ten years in the past six months since she properly saw him. His face was drawn, worn down by a crease in his brow and a plethora of bags beneath his eyes. His hair which was once worn in a perfect style is now in disarray, framing his equally upset face. It's apparent that he has not been sleeping well.

"Look who's awake," he said evenly, looking over the girl in the bed with a curt nod. "It appears that I chose to come visit on a good day. None of your goody-two-shoe friends are sitting in here."

She blinked twice, taking in what he was saying. "I think you're more hostile than in Azkaban, which is saying something."

Draco's brow knit together just once as she spoke. "This is the real world Granger. And the real world hasn't been great to me since my return. That and I spent the last three months of my life trying to get someone to believe that _you_ were in Azkaban."

"Well-"

"And I wasn't hostile in Azkaban," he interrupts. "I was actually rather friendly if you ask me."

"Yes Malfoy, I actually agree with you on that one. You weren't an utter prat."

She kept her guard up, eyeing the blond who saved her life. He hadn't done anything to make her doubt him so far, but his attitude today made her wonder about him.

He shrugs, relaxing back in a chair. "I see you're adjusting to light again."

"The Healer's gave me something to help with that. It would have taken much longer if they went at it the natural way."

"You mean the muggle way?"

She let his comment slide, at least for now. "I'm just getting used to it. They are still worried about my weight and the nightmares, plus occasionally I panic and they have to inject me with potions. They are afraid to send me home yet."

He tilted his head to the side, eyeing her uneasily. He already knew about the dilemmas keeping her there at St. Mungo's. "Home?"

"Yes, back home."

He seemed to hesitate a moment, as though unsure how to ask the next question. "Well Granger… where exactly is home now?"

Hermione paused, thinking over his question. He had a good point- she didn't quite know where home would be now. With her parents off in Australia and her home empty it had probably been foreclosed when payments stopped coming. Someone else probably owned the establishment now.

So… where exactly was home now?

Her silence spoke more volumes than words, and he humbled at her silence. "I'm sorry for asking."

"No… it's okay. It's a good question. I guess I don't really know where home is right now."

"There will be someplace that speaks out to you, someplace you consider home. You'll know it when you find it again Granger."

She scoffed. "You're more confident in that than me."

"I've been outside more than you have," he countered. "People are still looking for you, awaiting the return of Hermione Granger."

"They can wait longer," she sighed. "I don't want to _return _to anyone. I don't think I can handle the publicity."

"Oh, but they are ever so excited to see you," he continued, smirking at her frown.

"Can it Malfoy," she snapped, hearing the sarcasm in his voice. "I don't want to go outside and tell the media my sob-story. I don't think it is anyone else's business what happened to me. Outside my circle of friends- and you of course- I don't really think anyone needs to know what happened."

"And you think that is going to work? People thought you were gone, and then it was like you emerged from the dead. No one is going to forget that, and certainly no one is going to forget you. As soon as you leave St. Mungo's the questions will come."

"I'll have to floo out," she grumbled.

"Well you can't ignore the outdoors forever."

She knew he was right, no matter how much she wanted to disagree. Being Harry's friend as a child brought up memories of how it was to handle the limelight, to be questioned on end about someone's life. She just couldn't imagine it being her life.

"My friends come by often," she remarked, trying to brighten the mood. "They couldn't come today, and I asked the others to stay away so I could have some time to myself."

"Shall I leave then?"

"No! No, stay. You're the only person who comes in and doesn't ask how I'm doing every ten minutes. It's sort of nice to just have a regular conversation."

His eyebrows knit together._ She thinks this is regular? We've barley ever spoken except these last fractured weeks._

"That's because I know everything that happened," he responded with a shrug. "I was with you in Azkaban for a part of your stay. I learned what happened beforehand, now I'm just not too sure what happened after I left you there."

Hermione sighed. "I knew you would ask about that at some point."

"Granger, you were a kicking madhouse who wouldn't let me get near when we arrived. You hid from the light and said nothing to your friends. Did something happen while I was gone?"

She thought she heard concern laced into his words, but she couldn't be sure with him. "No… not really. Just the utter loneliness set in. Nothing happened that was anymore unusual than what you saw while there." She shook her head, eyes dropping down, "I can see why people go insane, and my time without you was not all that terribly long."

"No, it wasn't. It's a good thing too. People who go in there rarely return unchanged."

"Well I am changed," she replied matter-of-factly, eyes rising up again. He wasn't watching her anymore, instead focusing out the window, currently covered by drapes. "I'm just not entirely sure how I've changed yet."

He nodded thoughtfully, tapping his foot against the side of her bed. Despite his impeccable clothes, his facial features did not match his attire. He was troubled.

"Something's bothering you," she remarked. "Why do you come here so often?"

He scoffed. "I don't come here often, only when I can." When she didn't look convinced, he sighed and went on, "Why not? I'm the one that saved you, that got the bloody numbskulls to listen. I figured it might be… expected that I ensure you don't croak."

Although she could hear sincerity in his voice, she didn't completely believe him. "No, it's something else. If you just wanted to check in on me then you could do so without having to talk to me. A quick glance in here or an inquiry from one of the Healer's here would work just the same. Yet you come in here and strike up conversation."

"I can learn more from interacting with you than from glimpsing through a door. Besides, the Healer's would never disclose the information to me. Just because I led people to you doesn't mean anyone out there trusts me. A lot of people still think I should be in Azkaban."

"I'm glad you're not. You'd go crazy without company."

He almost smirked at that, a gesture that made her feel better about the blond. He hadn't quite been acting like himself since arriving, but seeing his lips twitch into the familiar look calmed her mind a bit. He might be somewhat out of character right now, but his typical self was still hidden beneath.

Silence followed, and within that silence the pair sat together lost in their own thoughts. It was Draco who broke the quiet atmosphere.

"Will you go back to Weasley now that you are free?"

Puzzled by the question, Hermione glanced his way. That was the last question she ever expected him to ask. Why would he care?

"I honestly haven't thought of Ron that way, not since returning. He's been so distant since I came back, even when he comes in with Harry it's like he doesn't know how to talk to me. It hasn't been on my mind, at least not in that way. Ron, well, he didn't seem excited for my return like a lover would be. A friend certainly, but a lover?"

The blond nodded, dropping the topic. She couldn't help but wonder what he meant by asking that.

"You need to rest," he remarked shortly after. "I'll go."

"Will you come back?" she asked, knowing she sounded needing. She was hoping to continue a genuine conversation with an actual person, the real conversations he provided. Her conversations with others were fractured, but at least speaking to Malfoy she felt like she was having a real conversation, and she would miss it if he did not return to talk.

He eyed her curiously. "I might. I figured you would prefer to spend more time with your friends."

"They aren't really acting like friends right now," she muttered. "At least, not the way I always pictured friends reacting when one of their own returns."

"Not enough excitement on their behalf?"

"Something like that."

Draco shook his head. "Get some rest Granger. Your body needs it. I will return sometime."

She watched the blond man leave, his figure disappearing out the door without another word. Left alone again she could feel the emptiness of the room, and realized that she really did miss human connection after all those days of solitude.

Lying down, she forced herself to think happy thoughts. Anything to earn herself a good night's sleep.

* * *

**A/n:** I decided to continue this story. It will not be overly long, likely no more than ten chapters, if that. If you liked it as a standalone story, feel free to read no further :)

Thank you to everyone who favorited, reviewed and followed this story. You guys are awesome! If you want to follow me, you can go through the link on my profile to my facebook page as well! Until the next chapter dearies!


	3. Chapter 3

AN: Edited April 5, 2016

Day 251

Hermione had never been so happy to leave a place before. The staff at St. Mungo's were accommodating and kind, but the down time was boring and numbed her mind. They were the exact opposite of Azakban, where human company was few and far between. She started to feel smothered in the pillows and constant check-ups. Harry and Ginny brought her a few various books to read but it didn't do her any good. She'd been locked away for months on end. All she really wanted to do was get up and move.

She was skittish, she knew she was. Walking out of her room at St. Mungo's to the floo system felt like a muggy dream, one laced with pain killers and sleep draught. She didn't quite feel alive as she traveled the short distance to the floo system and headed to her new place of residence. After having been gone for six months her parents' home was evicted, and they were still far away in sunny Australia. She had no place to go.

Harry and Ginny graciously offered up the extra room in their flat for her to stay until she got back on her feet. She would have to find a sound job and work for some time before she could move out, but anything was better than the bleak hospital room, even if she felt that her friends were coddling her.

"Do you need anything else Hermione?"

She shook her head, remaining in the same spot on the sofa. More than anything else she desired to go outside and see the sun. Her eyes still hurt sometimes, but nothing could heal her more than the touch of pure light hitting her skin, a gentle breeze not carrying the smell of stench and death. Harry and Ginny lived in a private enough area, but she felt drowsy and exhausted from her short travel back to their place. She really hadn't done much moving in a long time.

Still, what she wouldn't give to take a blinding run outside.

"I'm fine Ginny. You don't need to watch me every moment. Why don't you go do some of your work? I heard you telling Harry you're dreadfully far behind before he left. Go on, I'm fine."

Despite how distant her friends had been since her return, Ginny had begun to warm up to her the most. Hermione had hoped Harry and Ron would be more understanding and inviting, but overtime she realized they were still waking up from a nightmare. Hermione Granger had been dead for six months in their world. They needed time to adjust. She just didn't know why they couldn't act happier. It was starting to feel like she was a bad omen, something brought back from the dead that should've stayed lost.

"Are you sure?" the ginger asked, peering at her friend. "I don't have to right now. Come now, you just got out of St. Mungo's! We should be celebrating or something!"

"We didn't celebrate last night when I got out. We came back to your apartment, you showed me to my room, and they we went our separate ways."

Ginny worried her lip, watching her friends bleak expression never once change. "Harry's still trying to adjust, and you were nearly asleep when we flooed here. We can't exhaust you."

"I've been out of Azkaban for more than two weeks," she sighed. "I know Harry and Ron are stunned, but they are supposed to be my dearest friends! They could at least act happy that I'm back!"

"They _are_ happy," Ginny stressed. "But they've been under a lot of stress since the war ended. Oh Hermione, you just missed so much. There's still so much to tell you, to show you since Voldemort was defeated. They're trying to figure out how to break the news about everything."

She tilted her head at that, brunette locks falling over her shoulder as she leaned closer. "What news do they have to break?"

"Well… for example, we thought you were dead."

"Yes, so? I'm not. We've already covered that."

"Right, but Hermione that doesn't mean that everyone else is still alive. We gave you some names, some of the people who passed. But some… some are easier to discuss than others."

She stilled at that, having not thought about that realm of possibility. She was initially just so happy to be free of the prison that she hadn't considered who wouldn't be around when she came back, who was still left to tell her about.

"Who died Ginny?"

Slowly the ginger shook her head, sad brown eyes looking downward. "Harry and Ron wanted to be the ones to tell you everything. They've been trying to come up with an easy way to explain without breaking down."

"There will be no easy way to say it," she snapped, hazel eyes looking down. "People died. That shouldn't be such a shock to me. It happens in war. I just forgot to wonder who else was still… here."

Ginny leaned forward, hesitantly placing a hand over Hermione's. Physical contact had been a scarce thing since she returned, and she almost withdrew at the notion. It was a foreign feeling.

"You've had other things to worry about," she replied kindly, giving Hermione's hand a squeeze. This was the kindest she had seen the ginger since waking up at St. Mungo's. "You were out of the loop, trapped someplace inhumane. You had to learn how to readjust to comfort and actual human interaction first. Plus with your endless nightmares and the uncertainty of how things were, you had a lot on your plate to handle. You needed to worry about yourself first Hermione, and you have. Don't feel bad that you didn't ask right away. There's time for these things."

Listening to her friend Hermione got the feeling that she was very sad, and she feared to ask why. Before she could the kettle in the kitchen began to whistle.

"I asked you earlier, but you never answered my question about tea. I can't tell you everything right now Hermione, it's way too much. But there is something that I would really like to talk about with you, something I know Ron won't be brave enough to discuss. Would you care to listen?"

"What about Ron?" she asked, a sense of foreboding setting in. The topic of her boyfriend – perhaps ex-boyfriend now, they hadn't quite discussed their standing – was something that no one seemed eager to discuss, even the boy in question.

She tried to smile, but it came out more of a grimace than anything. "Let me get the tea- it'll only take a moment. Then we'll talk."

Ginny got up and disappeared towards the kitchen leaving her friend alone on the couch. Hermione had learned during her time in Azkaban to both value and hate the idea of solitude. It could do the mind good in small quantities to be left alone, but to be left alone too long was a truly scary concept.

She glanced towards the window, curtains hiding the sunlight she so very much desired. Her eyes were adjusted to the light now, and bright images didn't cause her to flinch so much. But she hadn't seen a lot of sunlight in her time since returning to the real world. It was a tantalizing subject, something constantly just out of reach.

Standing she headed to the window and withdrew the curtains, peering out into the bright light. Outside there was green grass and clear skies, things she hadn't seen in ages.

"Hermione! Where are you going?"

She couldn't quite help herself as she darted out the door, racing down the steps of the apartments to reach the outdoors. Trailing close behind her she could hear Ginny following her every step, but she didn't care. She knew exactly what she wanted.

Her breath hitched as she ran, the overexertion of her limps hitting her full force as she dashed outside. She wanted nothing more than to collapse headfirst against the ground, but a deeper desire to feel clean wind smacking her face outweighed her exhaustion. Bare feet danced off the hot concrete for only a moment before she hit dirt and grass, pausing at the nearest tree to pant. It wasn't a far run, but it did take the air completely out of her.

"Going for a run Granger?"

She almost jumped out of her skin at the voice. Ginny stopped beside her as well, sending the blond an uncertain look.

"Malfoy?" she asked, stepping closer to her friend, but Hermione shrugged her friend away.

He was standing on the nearby pavement, apparently having just exited the café near the apartments. The street might not be overly busy, but this was still London and there were people everywhere.

"Hello Granger," he said, heading over to the tree. He sent her a half smile, something she suspected was more for courtesy than anything else. To Ginny he merely nodded. "I see you've gotten out of St. Mungo's."

"I was released yesterday," she said breathlessly, one hand over her heart.

He nodded. "Good for you then. I suppose you haven't been outside much by the way you ran happily out here?"

It wasn't like he would know or anything. She hadn't seen him in eleven days. Hermione had been hoping to talk to him about numerous things but she hadn't gotten the chance to. Now that she was out of the hospital though she could attempt to, if he bothered to see her anymore. Maybe he was avoiding her for a reason.

"Yes, she hasn't really gotten out much," Ginny cut in, smiling half-heartedly at the blond. No matter what he did for her friend she still had her doubts about the blond. "I was half expecting her to do this earlier."

Draco nodded, hardly paying the ginger woman any mind. "Are you staying with Potter and Weasley?"

"Yes," Hermione replied, surprised he didn't come up with some sort of insulting names for her friends. "I don't have a place of my own right now and they offered. Hopefully in a few months I'll have a good enough job to move out though. I don't want to be a burden."

"You're _not _a burden Hermione," Ginny said seriously, shooting her friend a glare. "Don't think for a moment that you are. You are welcome in our home for however long you need."

Nodding quickly to her friend, she returned her attention to Draco. Considering he was the only person she hadn't seen a switch of moods in she wanted to speak to him the most.

"Do you think we could have lunch together soon?"

His eyebrows shot up and Ginny practically fell over. It took the both of them a few seconds to recover, and it took even longer for the blond to respond. "You want to have lunch?"

"Yes."

"With me?"

"Yes - as a thank you of course. If you hadn't campaigned for me I would still be rotting away in a dingy cell." Ginny cringed at her friends remark but chose to stay quiet on the subject, suddenly very interested in her shoes.

Draco studied her a moment longer before responding. "When would you want to have lunch?"

"Soon- um, anytime soon. Tomorrow maybe? I have to go job hunting in the morning but maybe something in the late afternoon around two or three?"

"Two would be fine," he replied, eyes still watching her warily. "We can try this café if you like, or if you need to be off at Diagon Alley there are plenty of places there."

"Here's fine," she said airily, glancing at the café. "I've never been there before and it will be good for me to come back by then. I'm still building up my endurance again. I'm not even supposed to apply for jobs for another two weeks."

Draco arched an eyebrow, shooting a glance towards Ginny. The ginger was still gaping at her friend, trying to decide what part of her sentence she should pick apart first. Apparently it was news to her that Hermione wanted to go job hunting.

"I'll see you tomorrow at two then," he said, finding a way out of the conversation quickly. "And Granger? Don't overwork yourself if you're still supposed to be resting."

"I'll try."

They watched the blond turn and leave. He was barely off the grass before he disappeared, apparating with a pop. Seconds later Ginny was on her case.

"There's no way you're applying for jobs tomorrow Hermione!" she snapped, shaking her head at the brunette. "You're strictly supposed to stay home for two more weeks. The heavy amounts of sleep draught the Healers have you on to help with nightmares are dangerous and you can't just go wandering around alone. You're not supposed to be doing things like this until after they start weaning you off the potions. It's to help you heal, not hinder you."

"Ginny, I survived alone in a dirty cell for months with little food, light, or water to help keep me alive, and for a stretch of time Malfoy. Sometimes I was a bit delirious, especially after my only company left. I can handle some heavy potions."

Ginny sighed, letting the topic go. She knew she wouldn't get through to her friend this way, but tonight Harry would be home and they could both talk to her about it then. Unfortunately they would both be away at work tomorrow unless Ginny took time off work to watch her friend. She was starting to worry that she would have to, if only to make sure Hermione kept taking things slow.

Extending an arm to her worn-out friend Ginny tried smiling. "Come on then, if you have a date for tomorrow then you better rest up. We can talk outside here if you want to stay in the sun, but your body should keep resting. There's plenty of grass to sit on."

"I don't have a date," Hermione declared, following her ginger friend across the grass to a shadier patch of trees. "I just need to speak with Malfoy."

They sat down, and Ginny looked at her seriously. "Is this about your time in Azkaban?"

"So what if it is?

Sighing, Ginny looked off across the grass, her brows drawn together, "Hermione you know you can talk to any of us about your time you know. It's hard for us to understand but we can try. We're all here for you."

"No Gin, unfortunately you don't understand," she snapped, momentarily losing her cool. "I wouldn't want you to understand. Azkaban is a soulless place that eats up your hope in most anything. Malfoy understands that. He spent quite a bit of time there with me."

"So you need someone who you can confide in who can understand? That's why you're so stuck on getting Malfoy to talk to you?"

"Yes."

In truth that wasn't the reason at all. She wasn't sure she'd ever be ready to talk about those lonely days after Draco left with anyone. It was a private, terrifying matter she didn't know how to put into words.

She had many other things to discuss with Draco than her pitiful stories about Azkaban. And she intended to get some answers from him tomorrow.

* * *

Day 252

After promising Harry and Ginny that she wouldn't go out and look for jobs, Hermione snuck out that morning and did exactly that. She couldn't live with the feeling of being helpless and reliant on other people anymore. She had to do this for herself.

The discussion she had with Ginny yesterday still lingered in her mind. It wasn't the deep talk she had been expecting. On the contrary it was on a topic she hadn't even really thought about, not until people started bringing it up.

Ron.

She had gotten with Ron before her disappearance, and now she learned that he was not only with Lavender Brown, but he was engaged to the twit. It was startling to realize that Ron got engaged - to a brainless bimbo no less - before Harry and Ginny tied the knot. Maybe that was what she was having the hardest time understanding.

He didn't wait for her. A part of her mind told her she should be upset that it took less than six months for him to not only hook up with his previous girlfriend but propose to her. Yet after everything, she couldn't will herself to be angry about it. It just didn't seem important anymore.

Ginny expected her to be heartbroken and dissolve into tears yet Hermione did nothing of the sort. She knew what her disappearance looked like to the outside world, even while she was sitting in Azkaban. Ron might have mourned her for a time, but he was a human and couldn't hold onto someone dead forever.

The other part of her was ecstatic that he found someone to make him happy. This meant that there would never be any conflicting emotions between Ron and Hermione, and she could live in peace with that. She was even more certain of the fact because Ron proposed _after _she was saved and he still hadn't changed his mind. Still, she should at least feel hurt that he let her go so quickly. Even now, she was questioning her own feelings. Before she was kidnapped she thought they had something really special, but maybe she had been wrong. It hadn't taken him too long apparently after the conclusion of the war to get with Lavender.

Hermione had concluded that this was why Lavender was so cold when she first spoke to her two weeks before. The woman surely had some doubts about Ron when she resurfaced. But there was nothing left between Hermione and Ron.

That was okay because Hermione couldn't do love right now. She had too many other things to handle. She wasn't even sure she could love someone anymore. Her insides felt too icy to hold that emotion inside.

Clearing her mind, she set about the task at hand. Looking for a job proved to be very difficult. Wandering around she drew a lot of attention and people wanted to stop her and ask her about everything. After two hours she had yet to really go in any store and try to apply. She kept getting swarmed by people.

"Hermione Granger," one particularly pushy bloke called. The man had followed her for the past half an hour with his reporter friend and the two had yet to give up trying to get an interview with her.

"I told you I'm not answering questions," she snapped, rounding a corner. It wasn't until then that she realized how close they were, the two somewhat boxing her in.

"It won't take long," reporter one said, blocking out other approaching figures from the right. "Come now, just a few questions."

That's when the claustrophobia set in. She didn't like being pressed into spaces, not after so much time in the dingy little cell. She didn't even like to go to the kitchen in Harry and Ginny's apartment, because the space was too crowded. And this fellow was beginning to press her back into the wall, cutting off her escape route, the stupid quill and parchment daring to reach close to her chest as he bombarded her with unanswered questions.

"Get away from me," she hissed, stepping back further against the wall. People were starting to crowd around, pushing her closer and closer to the wall. She felt like she couldn't breathe, the people slowly cutting out the view of the street in front of her,

_A cell. It's like being limited in a cell in Azkaban._

"Miss Hermione…"

"Miss Granger reportedly…"

She wasn't really listening to the voices anymore. Her eyes darted back and forth, looking for an escape route, a way to scurry between two people or slink down an alleyway where she could apparate out of here. Screw it if it drained her energy. She'd be out of here. But her hands were shaking now, clenched as tightly into fists as her muscles could allow. She wasn't sure she could manage the complex magic of apparition.

"Miss Granger-"

"Okay, okay, bugger off," came a voice, one that had now surprised her twice in two days. "She obviously doesn't want to talk to you."

"Malfoy?" she asked, surprised as the blond pushed through the crowd. He was taller than most of the crowd, who surged forward with renewed interest as he grabbed her arm, much gentler than she imagined he would, and began to pull her out of the throng of people. She shrank in closer to him as people swarmed the empty space behind them, their voices growing higher and shriller and their interest peaked.

"Shh," he said, eyeing the people still following them, eyes barely darting over her head for a moment. "Not now Granger. Will you mind apparating?"

"No, no of course not." It was a lie, she wasn't sure she could get there in one piece. But having someone there with her, someone now chasing her around for answers and pushing her back into walls, she felt a little better. If he felt her shaking he didn't let on.

"Then try to stop shaking," he hissed, immediately dashing her hopes. Her hands clenched up again, trying to keep the tremor of he shoulders at bay. He was almost dragging her along now, holding tighter to her arm as he quickened the pace. "We'll go to that little café by Potter's okay? Go first and I'll follow."

She felt a bit uneasy at that. At least if she collapsed from her trip she'd have a moment of two to compose herself on the ground before he arrived. A few seconds later she disappeared with a pop, her arm free from Draco. She arrived next to the café, Malfoy arriving a few seconds later.

She stumbled from the effort, using her hands to catch herself against the dirt. He offered her his hand but she ignored it, quickly brushing herself off, attempting to keep her shakes at bay. They weren't as bad now, but with her energy drained she wasn't sure she could keep her legs from buckling under her. A light sheen of sweat rested across her brow. Crossing her arms tightly as she tried to look in control, and less like she wanted nothing more than to pass out. "I could've done that. Apparating out by myself and all." Even to herself, it sounded like a lie with the way her voice shook.

"Then why didn't you?" He scoffed, shoving his hands down into his pockets as he glared at her, eyes sweeping over her shaken form. "I could see you panicking from a mile away Granger. You weren't going to come up with that simple solution."

Slightly offended she turned her nose up and away from the blond. "I was _not_ panicking. And besides Malfoy, I'm supposed to be resting as it is. I wasn't even sure I could manage apparition."

He chuckled lowly, leaning back against the light post. "There's no reason to lie Granger. I've been there myself, panicking from the littlest things. Azkaban is more than a physical prison to its prisoners- it's a mental one too." Letting his eyes move away from her, he continued, "I'm surprised you didn't pass out. But I figured if I did side-along apparition it'd only give the reporters more to gossip about."

Dropping her arms, she looked back at him, her shoulders sagging a little. Knowing that he has been to Azkaban and had experienced what she did, she believed his words. "Did you ever get so panicky that you couldn't think?" she whispered, clenching and unclenching her hands.

"No, not really. I've never had anything that dramatic happen, and after being out for a few months the feelings gone away. But I was never alone in Azkaban either. You were there before me, and you stayed long after me."

"Don't remind me," Hermione grumbled.

He shrugged, looking her over. "I think to be precautious you should head the Healer's words and wait a few weeks before going to busy, crowded places like Diagon Alley. It won't do any good if you're there panicking."

"I couldn't help it," she sighed, looking off towards the patch of trees she sat under with Ginny yesterday. "They were… too close."

"Claustrophobic feelings?"

"Yeah."

"Did you ever have them before?" he inquired, eyes glancing at her trembling hands again.

"No, my only real fear before being locked up with flying," she said, letting a hollow laugh escape. She shook out her arms, hoping the shakes would go away so he'd stop looking at her like that. "Now that I've been locked away in a dirty, little room I find that I don't like to be concealed in small places. It brings back the memories of being trapped there."

"It's natural to feel that way after spending a lot of time there," he said, causing her to feel a little better. He wouldn't meet her eyes, but somehow she felt his words were sincere. "You've been locked away for ages; you finally have space and you refuse to give it up. It's understandable. I was the same way, but only for about a week. The feeling is gone now. It just goes away the more you go outside and interact. You have to get back into the swing of things."

"And here you are telling me to not go out to crowded places for a few weeks."

"It _is _a good idea. You don't need to push yourself into anything. You have plenty of time to just sit back and heal properly. You don't want the aftermath effects to become long lasting."

Her eyes dropped to the ground at that. "I suppose. Well, I should thank you then for getting me out of there, even if I could've done it myself. I'm sure I can handle myself the next time."

"Hopefully next time will be in a few weeks and you won't be half as paranoid," he replied sternly, reminding Hermione of the tone of voice Harry used last night when lecturing her about pushing herself. "And you don't need to thank me Granger. I'm sure the reporters who were following you around will have a nice, gossipy article all about it for the evening paper."

Hermione's cheeks paled at that. "I forgot that bit."

"You're friends are going to find out you were out here pushing yourself whether you like it or not. I'm afraid there isn't much I can do about that."

Nodding, something occurred to her. "Yeah, I'm sure that's all they will focus on, never mind the fact that you're the one that got me out of there." She paused then, something else occurring to her. "It's strange that you just happened to be in the right place at the right time, isn't it?"

Chuckling, the blond looked her over. "No, not really. I remembered your determination from yesterday to go and visit Diagon Alley and apply for jobs. I just decided to go strolling during a time when I was sure you'd be out, and apparently it's a good thing I did too."

"You were checking up on me?" she asked, interest peaking as he shared that bit of information with her. She thought he'd been avoiding her for days, yet here he was admitting that he came to check in on her.

"Granger, I have been there. When I got out I was determined to make sure you escaped too. I plunged into the task, trying everything I could to convince the courts that you were there. I did it right away before my body and mind were prepared and it was very difficult. Being cautious and taking things slow isn't a bad idea. But I knew you wouldn't wait around and just figured you'd have the same paranoid reactions I did, only tenfold."

He had several good points there. Clamping her lips together, she studied the blond. She didn't quite know what to say now.

"We should get something to eat," he commented. "It's only a quarter past noon, but you need some food and something warm to drink. It'll get you to stop shaking."

Surprised, she glanced down. Her hands still trembled a bit despite the fact that the entire experience was over. She tightly clamped them together, hoping it would soon stop. Why couldn't she just calm down?

"I agree."

Following Draco into the café she found her mind wandering. Despite everything else she wanted to discuss, talking about post - Azkaban reactions was probably a very good idea. He might even be able to help her cope with everything, more so than her friends could.

Investing time in Malfoy would be a good idea. Now she only hoped he wouldn't mind all of the extra company.

* * *

**A/n:** And here's chapter 3! I hope you like it :D There's more to come soon!

Also, big thanks to all the awesome reviewers! You guys just rock.


	4. Chapter 4

AN: Edited April 5, 2016

Day 252 Continued

"I haven't annoyed you yet?"

"We've been sitting here for twenty minutes and you haven't said anything since our food arrived," he commented, sipping the ice tea beside him. "There isn't really much to be annoyed with."

She frowned, fiddling with her fingers. The shaking finally stopped once she sat down and had something to drink, ducking when the waitress tried to get a better look at her face. At least she was able to sit without jumping and trying to run now. "You don't mind me hanging around being extra company? I always took you for a loner."

"I _am_ a loner," he agreed, eyes snapping to meet hers. "There's no use clogging up your life with people who don't understand you. I have very few friends, few and far between, and I rarely feel obligated to spend time with them. I have a huge amount of debt to handle, the crisis that is the Manor, and you. There isn't much time for company these days, which is just fine by me."

"What do you mean, me?" She questioned, shifting uncomfortably. She was listed amongst the things that stressed him most, which was never really a good sign. "You have no reason to worry about me Malfoy."

He gave her a skeptical look, glancing down at the food she had barely touched. "You might think you're big and strong Granger, but Azkaban is no laughing matter. Sometimes you're going to feel in control about the situation you were in and others you're going to panic, like just now in Diagon Alley. Like it or not you're going to need me."

Hermione's eyebrows shot up at his words. "I _need_ you?"

"You just don't realize it yet, or maybe you do and you just won't admit to it," he said arrogantly, smirking at the surprised expression on her face. "I needed someone too when I came out of Azkaban, someone to assure me that I wasn't crazy for feeling the way I did. My help didn't come from such an easy place as my next door neighbor in prison."

Her eyebrows drew together. "Who did you look to for help?"

"It's not important," he replied, shaking his head. "What is important is getting past the mental block in your head. Azkaban is physically strenuous, but it is also incredibly mentally challenging. The mental side will remain long after the physical effects are gone."

"What kind of physical effects? I wasn't harmed there." She shifted uncomfortably at the end, and his eyes narrowed. It wasn't necessarily a lie. She wasn't harmed outside of malnourishment and terror.

"No, but you were malnourished and kept in cold conditions," he pointed out, as though he could read her mind. "I picked you up in that cell Granger. The clothing you were captured in was so distressed it barely hung over your body anymore. You were frigid to the touch, and you're lucky you weren't wounded when you were captured or I'm sure you'd be plagued by infection long before I reached you." He sipped his tea, ignoring the way her cheeks turned red at the reminder of her state of clothing back then. "It takes the body time to recover from all that. Trust me, I'm still learning and I've been out for quite some time. But I've also had an atrocious amount on my mind."

She pursed her lips, pushing the plate away entirely. "And when will the metal effects begin to subside?"

"I don't know Granger, to be honest. There aren't books written about this kind of thing, this isn't an exact science. The Ministry has never been concerned with what happens to the prisoners of Azkaban so long as they stay where they are. Few people care what's happened to those who are imprisoned, and care even less how everything affects them for the rest of their lives. I think Azkaban is too hardcore in a post-war world. There should be some sort of reform put on the place to make it at least somewhat humane. People staying there for years come out in bad condition. It takes time for them to heal, just like it will take you and I time to move on from our experiences."

"Are you still healing from Azkaban?"

He shrugged. "I'm mostly over it. I don't have nightmares or get panicky about anything anymore; it's just the mental blocks that remain. I can think of the types of people in the world who deserve a punishment like Azkaban, but they are extremists. I don't think basic criminals need to be locked away there. The punishment is too severe."

"I agree," she said, studying the blond man before her. He really was nothing like she expected him to be. "When do you presume that the news reporters will quit harassing me with questions?"

"You're a war heroine brought back from the dead. Do you think that it will ever really stop?"

"It stopped for you."

He chuckled. "I'm no hero. Even saving you from Azkaban doesn't make me one. I'm just a Death Eater who escaped a life sentence there, that's all. Society doesn't hold me high anymore, not like they hold you. Being a Malfoy no longer has an prestige in society." Shaking his head, his eyes slipped off past her head to the distant windows. "Everyone will want to know every detail of your story Granger. That is something you must accept. You don't have to share any of it, of course, but you have to understand that people will continue wondering about it."

"You're right."

Draco nodded. "Yes, I am. But something tells me you didn't ask me to lunch so we could talk about such mundane topics. Something has to be bothering you."

She blinked, looking up into crystal clear grey eyes. He could read her like a book. "Do you know everything that's running through my head?"

"I can imagine," he replied shrugging. "I have a better chance at understanding than your friends do. I don't think they've even begun listing the casualties to you yet."

"Casualties? Who died Draco?! Nobody had told me the truth yet." She sighed, resting her head in her hands. "That's not true. They told me about some of the people who passed, Remus, Tonks… Yaxley too. He's the only one I haven't pitied for dying."

"You shouldn't."

"But they won't tell me anything more. Important people died, people that we cared about before I was stolen. And now they won't even let tell me the truth. Ginny says Harry and Ron want to handle it a certain way, but it isn't working. I just need to know."

He shook his head sadly, regarding both her heartbroken expression and the broken tone she used when uttering his real name. "You might think I have all the answers, but some things need to come from your friends. Most of the people you would care to know about aren't people I had close or good relationships with. I know many of them, but it's not my place to reveal such things. Your friends should."

It was surprising to hear him talk in such a way. Usually all he could do was put her friends down. Here he was encouraging her to speak to them about the topic. That concerned her, making her wonder exactly who perished, who was left to metion.

When he refused to answer her question for the second time she sat back and considered her situation. Despite Draco Malfoy really being the only person who understood her predicament, she didn't want to start sobbing on his arm. She didn't really want to break down at all. All she wanted was someone to confide in.

Apparently he took her silence as an opportunity to speak up. "Do you like staying at Potter's?"

"I- well, it's okay I suppose. Homey, nice…"

"But you don't really want to be there," he remarked.

Glancing away she nodded. "No, not really. I love that my friends are looking out for me, and I understand where they are coming from, but I feel like a stranger. My friends are walking on glass around me, afraid of pushing me over the edge. I wish they would just act normal."

"They're trying to be considerate."

"I don't want considerate! I want my friends." She sighed, taking several deep breaths before she tried speaking again. "I just want my _real_ friends, not these careful - stepping people who are overly concerned. I would feel better if they would just act natural, joke around with me and make me feel welcome. But instead I feel isolated from them all and like I'm an outsider. It's like Azkaban changed me or something and now they are only tolerating me."

"I don't think they are _tolerating _you," he replied evenly. "They are just worried. And they have a right to be after your experience. When I pulled you out of that cell Granger you were hardly recognizable. I know you might not remember it because it all happened very fast, but Potter and Weasley were there. I'm certain that they do remember every single detail."

She cringed, imagining the terrible wreck she must've been when help finally came.

"That's the image that I bet stuck with your friends, the damaged, terrified girl that was left all alone in Azkaban. Potter and Weasley probably told their significant others and maybe Weasley's parents. I don't know if they would've told anyone else, but that's the image ingrained with them, the tortured soul that they ignored for so long because they didn't think of Azkaban, and because they didn't believe me."

Hermione nodded slowly, beginning to see their side of things.

"Unless you speak up to them about your feelings no one's ever going to know how you are feeling. You're conversations with me are great, but you have to keep your friends connected too. They want what's best for you."

"When did you become a philosopher Draco?" she mocked, trying to lighten to solemn mood. "You're suddenly so insightful."

He shrugged, looking at her with an expression she couldn't really read. "When you get locked away for a time, it does things to you. I've just seen a different side of life."

"Well, I like this side of you. This open Draco is much more relatable than the ice-cold person you once were."

"I'm only open to you Granger. It might come as a surprise, but just as I've become your confidant you've somewhat become mine. We can share things amongst each other that other people can't fully understand."

She nodded her head vigorously, glad he was seeing her side of things. "Exactly!"

They lapsed into silence, perfectly comfortable in one another's company. Hermione tried to study the blond, tried to see inside his mind like he saw into hers, but she just couldn't do it. Draco spent years before Azkaban and the war keeping his guard up. His walls were firmer than her own, and harder to break down.

"Potter has a floo system?" he asked at one point, his plate devoid of food. She finally snapped her eyes off his forehead to look at him.

"Everyone has a floo system," she joked, raising an eyebrow at her question.

Nodding, he shifted in his seat. For the first time in a long time, he looked uncertain about what he was going to say next. His grey eyes lost their cool glow. "I'll connect it to mine if you like. You might need the connection."

"How so?" she asked, sitting forward in her seat. It wasn't every day that a Malfoy offered something so surprising, and of his own free will too.

"When it gets really tough at night, trust me," he muttered, looking away again. She narrowed her eyes, wondering if there was more to the nightmares than he let on. "You'll want someone to speak to. I'll connect it, but just for you. It won't allow anyone else through."

She nodded slowly. "And you will really do that for me?"

"I wish someone had been able to do it for me," he replied, standing. "Try to eat some of that, even if you don't feel hungry. It will make you feel better."

He pulled out some money and left quite a bit on the table, tipping his head to her. "Don't go looking for any more jobs today okay? Just let your body rest."

They said nothing else, and he left without a backwards glance. She watched him leave, wondering why he was so straightforward about everything, It was nice, but a bit perplexing. Sitting back in the chair she sighed, staring down at her food. Maybe she could try eating a little bit…

* * *

Day 255

The past three days had been exceptionally hard on Hermione. She was listening, not going out in public for too long and eating when required, but her world had been shattered three days ago and she didn't know what to do now.

Harry, Ron and Ginny sat her down the night of her lunch with Draco and counted off who had died during the war. It was a painful topic, one she realized the trio had avoided speaking of until now. They were just as hurt as she was by the losses, only they had more time to come to terms with what had happened. Too much grief attacked her heart, and she found it extremely difficult to function over the next two days. Ginny, thinking ahead, had supplied the fridge with cookie dough and ice cream as comfort foods for her friend, and Hermione readily accepted the foods. They couldn't heal her broken heart but at least it tasted good.

It was day three now and she still had a hard time accepting things. It was getting a little easier, but she had avoided sleeping much the past two nights for fear of dreaming of the deceased. Now though, her body could take no more sleep deprivation and forced her under during the middle of the day, while she was alone in the apartment.

Nightmares, that's all she had. She was used to them by this point, but these nightmares focused on different topics than her previous ones. Instead of these nightmares being about her own torments, they were about her friends who she would never see again.

Hermione woke in a sweat, gasping as she woke. Daylight streamed through the open window blinding her for a moment, and she had to cover her eyes before she could really wake up. Struggling into a sitting position she realized she was crying.

She missed them, all the people who believed her to be dead - all the people she didn't get a chance to say goodbye to. They left an empty hole in her heart.

Standing on shaky legs she rubbed the tears away, breathing as best she could. With no one else home she wasn't concerned about her appearance, and headed straight to the fridge for some more comfort food. She wanted anything to keep her mind off things.

"It's all gone," she moaned aloud, leaning her head sadly against the freezer. Both the ice cream and cookie dough were empty. She had put the containers back in the freezer without noticing and now regretted it. All she wanted was comfort food, and she couldn't even have that as she threw the empty containers away.

Sitting on the couch she pulled her legs to her chest, willing the tears to stop coming. She had been strong for quite some time, but even her heart broke every once in a while. She just missed her friends so much and reality was crashing down on her a little more each day. She felt smothered under a bucket load of things she couldn't control.

What she needed more than anything was someone to talk to. Worrying her lip she glanced towards the fireplace, having ignored the Floo for two long days. He would surely listen, but she wondered if it was too much to pelt out all of her emotions to the blond, who was typically secluded and emotionless. They talked, but never about emotional topics like this.

Then again, he had been very open and straightforward with her since returning from Azkaban. Maybe he wouldn't mind the extra company for a while.

Standing she headed to the Floo, picking up her discarded wand off the table. It was new, not the wand she had before she was captured. As far as she knew, Bellatrix snapped the thing in half before Yaxley hauled her off. Harry brought her this as a present, hoping she could awaken some of the magic inside of her again. She had left it there two nights ago and hadn't gone back for it since. The effort took too much out of her. Taking a deep breath she stared at the Floo for a long time.

He hadn't given her specific directions, but so long as the Floo's were connected she had faith that she wouldn't end up in some strange place. If he really wanted to screw her, he wouldn't have come back to Azkaban. Stepping in she took a deep breath and grabbed some powder.

"Malfoy's," she whispered, before throwing down the powder.

The feel of flooing surged through her body, not nearly as overpowering as the last time she used one. She still stumbled when she arrived, falling out of the fireplace in a heap. She immediately noticed that this was not the Manor, and the floor was carpet not stone. The walls were a simple beige, and the furniture was streamline and new. She had never seen a room this small in the Manor either, and assumed that this was perhaps Draco's apartment. She scrambled to her feet, hoping that he wouldn't notice her graceless entrance, and immediately noticed him off to the left, nose deep in some paperwork.

At least he had been, before she landed unceremonially on his floor. He was standing now from the table, apparently about to approach her before she scrambled up. Now he maintained the distance, watching her with guarded eyes as though he wasn't sure how she would react.

"Hello," she said, stepping closer. She looked a mess, and could tell by the way he directed his attention to her as she stepped into the light. She was shaking a little, the adrenahline in her veins propelling her forward. He was watching her closely, as though worried he might have to rush forward at any moment in case she buckled. "Do you mind some company?"

He gestured to the chair next to him at the large table. "Be my guest." His eyes swept over her form again, causing her to subconsciously cross her arms over herself under his intense gaze. "Something troubling you?"

Hermione shrugged, moving to sit beside him at the table. He didn't rush forward, instead letting her make her own way across the space until she was finally sitting down in the seat. Only then did he sit down on the chair again and lean back, strong arms moving to stretch behind his body as he looked at her expectantly. She was quiet for many moments, hoping he wouldn't keep looking at her with those all-knowing eyes, before she finally broke.

"They told me who died."

Draco nodded in understanding, looking her over again as though to check she wasn't crying. "I read up on the death count myself after the war. I know many of those people were your friends, and I'm sorry for those you lost."

She nodded in return, grateful for his understanding anyway. His humble response helped her, reminding her he could be very kind when he wasn't busy pretending to be cold. "I'm just… having a hard time accepting it."

"Death is hard to accept under any circumstances," he agreed. "In large quantities it's even harder, and to have that thrown down on you on top of everything else is rather mind-shattering. You have a right to be upset and grieve you know."

"I've been crying for two days," she whispered, batting her eyes to keep the fresh bout of tears at bay. "My friends say they understand, and I know on some levels they do, but it's not the same for them. They knew by the end of the war pretty much everyone who was dead. They grieved together, attended the countless funerals together, and leaned on one another. For me it's kind of like going at it alone."

"If you talk to your friends," he mused, "Then you won't feel so alone. They did this too you know, just like everyone else in Britain. People grieve; it's a natural response to loss. Your friends were also their friends, they know what it feels like to have those empty spaces in their hearts. Talk to them Granger, I'm sure they will be more than happy to listen."

"I had a nightmare," she said then, glancing his direction. It was an abrupt change in topics, but the words just tumbled from her mouth. "All I did was dream that I watched each of my friends die, and my mind made up different scenarios, each more terrible than the last. I - I'm not sure I want to know exactly how they died."

He looked her over slowly, watching the trains of thin tears dance down her face. Grabbing the handkerchief he'd kept nearby he dabbed one side of her face, catching her attention.

"Then don't ask," he whispered, eyeing her. His delicate fingers danced to her other cheek, wiping it dry as well. "You know that they died fighting for what they believed in, and every one of them would be happy to know that Voldemort's gone. Just let that idea carry you through your grieving, instead of focusing on what could have happened to each individual person. You'll sleep better that way."

She nodded, resting her hand over his for a moment before taking the handkerchief away to continue wiping her tears. Draco watched in silence, arms crossed loosely over his chest.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, forcing a smile as she tried to change subjects. "You look pretty busy."

He shrugged, waving his hand over the piles of paperwork. It filed itself neatly into one tall stack on his other side. "It's the same thing I've been doing since I got out of Azkaban. Debts have to be paid, the Malfoy Corporation has to be restored and restarted, and it's my duty now as my father's successor to ensure that these things are done in a timely manner. If people didn't hate me because of my family's involvement in the war though, it would be a lot easier to get half of this stuff done."

"Can I help?" she questioned, tilting her head. "You've done so much to help me, and -"

He shook his head, silencing her by resting a hand on top of hers. "These are my problems Granger. I will handle them as best I can. You've got enough to worry about and straighten out in your life, don't worry about mine."

"But -"

"Please - don't. I'll feel better knowing my troubles aren't troubling you. Maybe once you're on your feet, if I am still struggling you could assist me. But please, just worry about yourself for now."

She pressed her lips together. He certainly wasn't worrying just about himself.

He glanced at her, noting the puffiness of her eyes. "Have you been crying for some time now?"

"I woke up crying."

Draco nodded, standing up. "Would you like some tea? It won't take long to make, and you look like you could use a cup."

She smiled gratefully. "Tea would be lovely."

It took a few short minutes to brew the tea and before Hermione knew it she found herself sitting on some of Draco's streamline furniture in his flat, the blond himself sitting right beside her.

"I find tea to be very calming," he mused, sipping the hot beverage. "I used to drink buckets of it when I first got out."

"Do you think it helps?"

Draco shrugged. "I think anything helps you if you believe it does. My scapegoat from my pain and remorse was drinking tea and pouring over hideous amounts of paperwork. Give it a bit of time Granger, you will find what comforts you too. And when you do hold onto it. It'll make life easier."

"I don't know what will help me," she sighed. "I haven't found anything yet."

"Well, you're welcome to speak with me. I may not fully understand everything going on in your head but I have a better understanding than most people. I know I never personally wanted to share all of my feelings with everyone, but it does help to talk about it… sometimes. I might not be so fucked over now if I had talked about what was going on in my head."

She frowned, looking over at him. "What do you mean?"

"Nothing," he replied quickly, leaning back against the couch, his cup placed down on the table. "Nothing Granger. Let's just… relax."

Hermione found that she wanted nothing more than to relax, and set her cup down as well. The brunette also leaned back, resting her head against the sofa. If she stayed a few minutes longer she could take a cat-nap.

She never noticed her head slowly falling to the side, nor the way sleep stole her under like a thief in the night. The only person who noticed her tired behavior was Draco, who glanced over when her head fell on his shoulder. For many moments the blond simply sat and stared at her, fingers moving ever so slowly to brush her hair out of her face.

He had not experienced such human contact in years, and to receive the tingly feelings he got from Hermione was just unheard of. He knew exactly what was happening to him as he let her rest against his shoulder, and he feared the path it would take him down.

* * *

Hermione woke some time later from another nightmare, screaming as she sat up. Unfamiliar with her surroundings at first she panicked, completely falling off the sofa with a loud thud.

It took her many moments to realize where she was. The last thing she recalled was sitting with Draco earlier on his sofa, and then she began to get comfortable and tired. Had she fallen asleep?

_Of course you fell asleep Hermione!_

When she arrived earlier it was mid-afternoon, but glancing out the nearby window she realized it was nighttime. How long had she been out?

"I was starting to wonder if you would ever get up," he said, startling her from the other side of the room. "I thought about getting up to see if you were alright when you fell, but I figured it would just freak you out if someone appeared before you remembered where you are."

Hermione blinked, squinting her eyes in his direction. He was back at the dining room table pouring over paperwork again. Standing she slowly made her way towards him, wiping sleep from her eyes.

"Did you lace my drink or something?" she asked, a yawn escaping as she spoke.

He laughed at that, shaking his head though he didn't look up. "Hardly. Your body was so tired from lack of sleep the past few days you practically passed out as soon as I got some tea in you. You've been out for hours. I left you there - figured you needed the rest."

"Thank you," she said, eyeing him. "What time is it exactly?"

"Quarter to ten Granger. You're friends are probably worried sick about you."

She gasped. "Yes they are! Harry and Ginny worry about me so much, and Ron would have a fit if he thought something happened to me. Merlin, I need to go back right now. I'll be lucky if they haven't already sent out a search party."

"You can always Floo them too," he suggested. "Then you wouldn't have to go back tonight."

"And why wouldn't I want to go back?" Hermione asked suspiciously, eyeing the blond again.

He cleared his throat then, eyes drifting back to his paperwork. "It occurs to me Granger that you complained about being unable to sleep for the past two nights no matter what you did, yet here you slept for hours without a peep up until you screamed and fell off the sofa. If it makes you more comfortable to sleep here - for whatever reason - I have a guest room you are always welcome to if it will make the healing process easier."

At first she didn't say a thing as she was too stunned by his offer. Just a few days ago she was afraid she was annoying him by hanging around him too much yet here he was suggesting that she come stay with him if it made her feel better.

Draco really, _really _cared about her apparently. But what would her friends say if she stayed the night at Malfoy's?

_Does it matter? You are an adult now and you can do whatever you want, especially if it means getting to feel better._

"I'll have to go back to Harry's," she said, drawing his attention. "I - I mean my stuff is over there. I at least need my toothbrush and pajamas. And it will go over better if I at least explain things in person." She wasn't sure what she would say, or if she'd even be coming back tonight. Yet the words seemed to form themselves and tumble out of her mouth before she had time to think about them.

They were both acting as though this was not at all a perplexing deal, one that would startle anyone who learned about it. They were both acting as though it was natural to sleep in close quarters together.

Then again, it was. They did share a wall in prison for quite some time.

He nodded, standing. "I'll get your room ready. Truth be told no one has stayed in that guest room since I bought the place. Come back whenever you are ready to."

Hermione smiled gratefully, turning away to face the Floo. Telling her friends about her new choice of room wasn't going to be easy, but deep down she could feel that this was something she had to do.

* * *

**A/n:** And here is chapter 4. Keep reading and reviewing my loves they mean a lot!

You can also check out my new stories on my page, and my facebook through the link there.

If anyone is interested in joining a competition please let me know. My teams looking for a new member.


	5. Chapter 5

AN: Edited April 5, 2016.

Day 255 Continued

"What do you _mean_ you want to stay the night at Malfoy's?!"

She glanced between her two friends, knowing this wasn't going to go over well. She might be an adult and completely able to make her own choices, but her friends still worried about her like they would a child, and while they might appreciate what Draco had done for her and they understood that he helped her, spending the night at his flat was something else entirely.

"Harry," she reasoned, glancing between the couple. "You have to understand. I love everything you and Ginny have done for me. You've put up with me while I try to heal and you've let me do what I need to in order to survive. But this is something that I feel might help me. Draco… well, he gets where I'm coming from."

Ginny pointed a finger at her friend, mouth dropping open a bit. "Did you just call him Draco?"

"Yes, I did. It is his name after all." She smiled at little as it rolled of her tongue, thinking how quickly things changed since she was brought back from Azkaban. :He went through what I'm going through and he learned to overcome what happened to him. I'm having a hard time doing that, and I feel like he might be able to help me more."

"How did you even end up over there?" Harry asked, looking between the two women. Skeptical eyes glanced over Hermione, but they only rested there a moment before turning directly to his girlfriend. "Did you set something up Ginny?"

"No!"

"Harry, this is something I planned on my own," Hermione interrupted, dragging the couples heated gazes back to herself. "When we met up for lunch he offered to help me if I needed and set up a private connection via Floo. I wasn't sure at first if I would ever use it… but I did. I got my first good night of sleep in ages after having a conversation with him over tea."

"Talking to Malfoy soothes your soul?" Ginny asked, perplexed by the idea. "Over tea? I always imagined him to be one of those stereotypical brooders drinking heavily over whiskey.

She shrugged. "I don't know what his drinking habits are Ginny. But yes, it does help me to talk to him."

"Hermione," Ginny said, stepping up to her friend, "I know we can't stop you from doing what you want but have you thought this through? Talking to Malfoy is one thing but sleeping at his house is a whole other matter. Won't that remind you of Azkaban?"

"Yes, and maybe in some ways that will help me. I know it's hard for you to understand because you didn't experience living there, but Draco and I supported one another in Azkaban. I loved that he slept one wall over, because it provided the company I needed without being too close for comfort. It reminded me I wasn't totally alone, even though I spent many days before his arrival all by myself. More than a month. But we'll be sharing a wall at his apartment too, and maybe it'll help me somehow, or maybe it won't do anything for me. I don't honestly know, but I have to try at least. I'll do anything if it means I can find peace enough to sleep."

Ginny began protesting again, but this time Harry stepped forward and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. She paused, glancing back at her boyfriend.

"Do whatever you think is going to soothe your mind Hermione," he said, looking at his friend, eyes full of understanding, "I know what it's like to be plagued by nightmares."

The brunette smiled gratefully, nodding her head to Harry. She had hoped he would understand, considering he was really the only person in her circle of friends who could. "Thank you. I'll pack my stuff, which shouldn't take much time at all. I don't know if I will come back to stay before I get my own place or not." She held up a hand when Ginny began to protest, maybe thinking that she only originally meant to be gone for a night. The longer she spoke to her friends, the more she realized she had to do this for herself. "I will certainly come by and visit. Maybe we can have dinner with Lavender and Ron soon, so I can explain this to him. I know he'll lose it when he finds out that I've decided Draco's place is a better place to sleep."

"He'll lose his mind," Ginny said playfully, straining to smile over the topic. "I'll invite them, but I don't know if Lavender will show. She's still on rocky ground with you."

Shrugging, Hermione headed off towards her room, sending the couple a backwards smile. "Then at least we won't have to listen to her bitch through the entire supper."

* * *

Draco's flat seemed oddly empty when she returned. He was no longer sitting at the dining room table, but unfortunately he was all too familiar with her nosy nature and he had hidden away his paperwork. She stepped into the spotless room searching for any signs of life, her small bag draped over her shoulder.

"You brought a rather small overnight bag," he says, stepping from the hallway. "I heard you enter," he continues, answering the question on her face.

Her cheeks colored at his words, an expression barely visible in the dim light. Nonetheless she squared her shoulders. "This is all I own Draco."

He frowned, looking perplexed. "Potter is rich you know. He should be able to buy you more than that. You need a starter kit to jump back into life you know. Besides, I think you've gotten plenty of money from beneficiaries who are hoping you'll help them on one matter or another. You could even make money off doing some interviews."

"I really didn't want Harry's money," she snapped in return, suddenly irritated with him. He seemed to think money could come from anywhere, and although he wasn't wrong those weren't the methods she wanted to use to gain financial stability."Not everyone comes back from prison and steps into a lavish life you know, debts or not. I don't want to share my story and get paid for it. Harry and Ron certainly offered to provide me with everything I need until I am back on my feet but I declined. I have more clothing than I brought with, but much of it I left back at the apartment. Ginny understands that a lot of the clothing she purchased with Lavender is simply too girly for me. They offered to buy something new and even take me along but I declined. I have what I _need_. When I am ready I'll go back for what I want."

He held up his hands in defeat. "I wasn't trying to be rude. It just seemed strange that Potter with all of his money wouldn't help and buy you things to start you off. Even the Ministry would have done that for you, what with your background and all."

"The Ministry would also place me in a position over people who have worked for their jobs for years, provide me with a high class overdone home at no additional charge and clothe me in fine fabrics if I so choose. I choose to make my own living. I'm not trying to take charity from anyone. I sat on my arse long enough in Azkaban and I refuse to sit back and let people take care of me now and literally give me everything. I've always been a believer that you should earn what you have. I just haven't gone out to earn anything yet. I'm still getting there."

He knew he'd hit a nerve, and from the look of determination in her eyes he knew if he kept this conversation going she would only get more fueled up. She was very independent, and he didn't know why she was oh so defensive on this topic, but he chose not to push it.

"Okay, okay I get it. I wasn't trying to push your buttons. The guest room is set up if you would like to go and have a look. The place is literally spotless - like I said, it's never been used."

She nodded once, knowing she had blurted out a lot to him just then. He didn't necessarily need to hear her self-righteous ideas, but she'd told him about her views on some things anyway. He probably didn't want to hear anymore the rest of the night.

"My flat isn't too big," he explained, leading her down the hall. "We'll share a wall like I mentioned before. The rooms are large though, but our beds share the same wall. If you'd rather not sleep against the same wall that I do I can change its position with a flick of my wand though."

He almost seemed nervous to show her the room, and in some ways it was almost humbling. Hermione could think of very few times when she had ever seen him nervous. "I'm sure the room is just fine the way it is Draco."

"We'll see," he said, pausing outside a door. She hadn't ever been this deep into the flat before, having only ever gone to the bathroom at the beginning of the hall. There were three other doors spread out across the end of this hallway, plus a balcony.

The room was as large as Ginny and Harry's master bedroom in their apartment, though the couple was far more humble than Malfoy. The color pallet was bland but calming, and the bed seemed to have just been made, with one side of the covers turned down.

"I never bothered putting covers on the bed before," he admitted when he noticed her lingering stare. "The covers and sheets are actually from my room, off my bed. They've only been used for a night, so I hope you don't mind. They were cleaner than the other set. I suppose I should go and by a few more."

"It's fine," she said, smiling to herself. She didn't know why it brought a smile to her face.

"You can unpack to whatever degree you like - I don't know what makes you comfortable. You have a private bathroom in here, and so do I. Use it as often as you please - draw a bath if it helps you relax."

"Thank you."

"If you need anything you're welcome to knock on my door, it's directly next to yours. After the war I became a light sleeper. I'll hear you right away."

"Are you sure?" she asked, surprised, "Seems a bit disturbing to your sleep."

"Granger, if I didn't expect you to be disturbing my sleep would I really have invited you to stay?"

She blinked, turning to fully stare at him, wondering if there was some underlying meaning to his words. The expression on his face never let her know whether or not there was.

"No… I suppose not. Are your walls soundproof?"

"Erm, no." He gave her an odd look. "Should they be?"

Shrugging, Hermione sat down on the bed and tested out the mattress. Oh, it was very soft indeed. "If they aren't, then you'll probably know when I'm awake long before I knock on your door. The nightmares… sometimes they make me loud. I would sometimes wake Harry and Ginny."

He shrugged in return. "Then maybe I'll already have the tea ready by the time you come out."

"Maybe." She sighed, looking up to finally smile at him. "Thank you for letting me stay here Draco. I don't know whether or not it's going to help me, but it's worth a shot. I'll try not to disturb your slumber too much."

"Anything's worth a shot if nothing else has worked for you," he agreed, grabbing the door handle. "Oh, and Granger?"

"Hmm?"

"Did Potter really let you stay here without complaint? I figured you wouldn't be back until at least tomorrow with the fit your friends would throw."

"It's my decision," she replied, eyebrows drawing together. "Harry doesn't _let_ me do anything. All of my friends can state their opinions about anything I do, but in the end I'm the only one who can make a final decision. When we were in school Harry suffered from nightmares, especially as he got older and Voldemort plagued his sleep more and more. He understood more so than Ginny about why I needed to do this. He understands what it's like to go for many nights without proper rest. Now Ron on the other hand, when he finds out I'm sure I'll get an earful. He'll be harder to convince."

Draco crinkled his nose. "Weasley does have quite a thick head."

She smiled at that, the corners of her mouth turning up just a tad. "Yes, he does."

The blond bowed his head, backing out of the room. "It's late Granger, I'll leave you to get settled in and rest. I'll meet you in the living room sometime in the morning. I don't really have a set wake-up time. Or maybe tonight if your nightmares get the best of you."

"They likely will."

He nodded again, stepping out of the room. "Goodnight Granger."

"Draco."

He left her alone for the first time in the room, and she breathed deep. Falling back on the mattress she instantly noticed the familiar smell and buried her face in it.

It was the only scent she found when near Draco, a mix of cologne and wine. She had noticed the bottle sticking out of his trash when she first visited. Such a light drink for the traditionally hardcore Slytherin. Ginny's comment about whiskey dashed through her brain, but she quickly shoved it away. If she knew one thing for sure, he wasn't using alcohol to cope.

It was a smell she was slowly learning to associate with comfort, a smell she only found on one person.

_Draco._

* * *

Day 256

It was still dark when she woke up screaming. For the first time there was no sound of the rushed patter of feet on wood, and two people didn't break through her door to see if she was alright. In fact, no one stepped in at all.

_Maybe I'll already have the tea ready by the time you come out._

She was at Draco's, sleeping in the guest bedroom. He had told her if she needed something that night she could knock on his door, but if her cries vibrated loud enough off the walls he might already be awake making tea to calm her down.

He was really a curious character. Maybe he had enough nightmares of his own upon returning to know that distance helped more than suffocating coddling. Sitting up in bed she rubbed her eyes, hands jutting out to find the light. The bright shine was painful at first but lessened the longer it was on. Glancing at her clock she sighed. It was only three in the morning.

Standing on shaky legs she grabbed her nearby robe and threw it over her body. Not bothering with her wand she slipped to the door and headed out, peering into the hall. It didn't appear that anyone was awake.

_Well he just couldn't have slept through that could he?_

Turning away from the direction of the dark kitchen she chanced a glance towards his door. No light shined through the bottom and she wondered if he was indeed still asleep.

_Light sleeper my arse. Maybe I shouldn't disturb him._

While debating whether or not to awaken the blond the door swung open, revealing a rather tired looking Draco. It took him several seconds to even realize she was standing there.

"Don't look at me like that," he said, flicking on the light in his bedroom. "It's been a long time since I woke up for someone else's nightmares. It takes a minute."

She tilted her head, studying him. He was so different from her other friends. While they came running and panicking into her room each time she had a nightmare, demanding that she speak up and talk he was very subtle about what he thought she should do, and he never quite demanded she do much of anything. He wasn't even tense that she woke up screaming like someone was killing her. How he managed to keep that level of calm up even in times like these was something she couldn't fathom.

When she didn't respond immediately he arches an eyebrow, dashing away the final bits of sleep from his eyes. "Tea?"

"Please."

They wander down the hallway together, neither speaking as they stumbled to find the light. Hermione smiled as they stepped into the kitchen, the tired man reaching out to prepare the tea by hand. It was nice to share company with him. His demeanor was already easing her troubled mind.

* * *

Day 260

It became a habit for the duo to wake at night, for Draco to make tea, and then they sat together in silence until Hermione decided to talk. She had yet to reveal much of anything, but he didn't seem troubled. Often he just closed his eyes and listened, speaking up rarely during those wee hours of the morning.

She found there were few things to occupy her, however. He didn't have a grand collection of books, and the twit still refused help when it came to his paperwork. She didn't push that topic, not when things were going so very well. Her nightmares hadn't stopped since coming to visit the blond, but they weren't necessarily as bad as usual. She liked to blame that on her scented bed sheets, the smell of Draco still lingering there. Why it comforted her she feared to consider.

Thus far she had managed to avoid a dinner between herself and her friends. She had seen Ron just yesterday and although she convinced him that Draco wasn't an all-around bad character he still thought that she should stay with Harry. It didn't change her opinion on the matter.

That night she woke again from her nightmares, though she caught the scream in her throat instead of letting out a noise. Silence greeted her, the kind she didn't like. Each night when she went to sleep these past several days it had been well past midnight, and she was usually exhausted after spending the entire day with her blond companion. Sleep came quickly, even if she feared what she would dream of. Silence wasn't something she was immediately thrown into upon waking; usually she screamed and the sound echoed in her head.

Hermione scrambled from the bed, not at all appreciating the quiet atmosphere. She snatched up her wand as she hurried to the door, breath hitching as she walked.

_You're being ridiculous. There's nothing to be afraid of here. This is still Draco's flat, silent or not. You're not going to tumble back to Azkaban in the dark. If he saw you reacting this way right now he'd cock one of those quizzical eyebrows at you and ask some sort of trying question._

Entering the hallway she stilled, looking slowly towards his door. It wasn't opening, and there were no signs that he was already in the kitchen making their midnight tea.

_Of course he isn't awake silly. You didn't scream; there was no sound to wake him up._

She stepped up directly in front of the door and froze. What was she supposed to do, knock? They didn't visit one another in each other's bedrooms, it was like forbidden territory. They simply met up in the hall or dining room, but never in each other's quarters. She would be crossing into some foreign zone she didn't know how to handle.

_Just knock, it's not like it's a hard thing to do._

_But if you knock, you'll wake him up. You didn't wake up like usual tonight, he's still sound asleep. Why not leave it that way?_

Hermione turned to reenter her room, deciding that she wouldn't disturb the blond tonight. He was being so terribly helpful and while she appreciated his willingness to aid her she didn't want to disturb him tonight if she could help it. He deserved a night of good rest, and maybe she wouldn't suffer from anymore nightmares. Maybe.

She paused only a step or two away, groaning catching her attention. It wasn't a happy type of groan, but one laced in fear. Surprised she turned back to the door again.

_I thought he said he was over his nightmares._

Stepping up again she knocked on the door lightly, uncertain she wanted to disturb him even then.

"Draco? Are you alright in there?"

No response came, and she knew it was because she was too quiet. Pausing a moment she debated knocking again before realizing her hand had made its way to the door handle.

_When did that happen?_

She wasn't exactly sure why she thought going into his room was a good idea, but nonetheless she slowly pushed open the door and peered inside. It was the dead of night, and though it was hard to see anything she could clearly make out where the blond was. He was on his bed, twisting around. Hermione blinked from her place by the door, watching the shadowed figure.

_He still has nightmares just like me. He just doesn't say anything._

Stepping in was a foreign feeling, as she had never even seen his private quarters let alone stepped into them. Her feet traveled towards his bed without asking her brain about it. She stood beside it for several moments, watching him.

He wasn't sleeping well. His body was tense, sweat beading down the sides of his face. One hand clenched the sheets to his side, the other hidden beneath his covers. The blond whimpered, startling her.

"Draco?" she whispered in the dark, extending a hand to his shoulder. She gave him a gentle shake, only to be rewarded with his hand jutting out dangerously close to her face.

She wielded back, surprised by the reaction. "Merlin Draco!"

Her cry awoke the man, whose eyes flew open at the sudden noise. He exhaled several times, taking deep breaths to slow his heartbeat. She stood back a step or two, wary of his unconscious movements.

"What are you doing in here?" He asked gruffly, a hand moving to crease his sweaty brow.

She shrugged in the dark, avoiding answering. A moment later the space was attached by light and she cringed at the brightness. He sat up slowly, studying her closely.

"I had a nightmare," she said nonchalantly, waving a hand as though it wasn't a big deal.

"I didn't hear you wake."

"I didn't scream tonight," she replied with a nod, seemingly assuring herself that it was indeed true. "I got up for our usual midnight adventures but… you were still asleep. I was going to leave it be for the night and not worry about waking you but then I heard noises from in here."

He grimaced, closing his eyes. "Usually I don't have to worry about you hearing me because your screams wake me up." He sighed, rubbing the bridge between his nose. "Should I make some tea? It will take a moment for me to get up but it should taste the same."

Hermione wasn't even listening to what he had to say, and instead sat down on the edge of his bed, close to the man. "You still have nightmares."

"We're not talking about my problems, Granger."

"Yes we are," she replied determinably, studying him. "You led me to believe that you've moved past the nightmares."

"I've done nothing of the sort," he replied honestly, rubbing his fingers over the silky, sweat stained sheets. "I said that things get better overtime."

"But you've been away from Azkaban for months," she pointed out, looking at him carefully. "I haven't been out that long and I suffer from traumatic nightmares still. When I've been out as long as you will I still not sleep through the night?"

He sighed, running long fingers through his hair. "Granger, Azkaban isn't the only nightmare I have. I know you were stolen away early on in the war, but some people were actually around longer. I killed a few people… though I will admit they were from my own side. I won't bore you with the details, but you need to remember that Azkaban isn't my only nightmare. I have my family I have to worry about now, and the reminders of the war, and you-"

"I'm a nightmare?" she inquired, quirking an eyebrow at him. In return he rolled his eyes.

"You're far from a nightmare. But wondering what happened to you was a nightmare for me while you sat in prison."

She frowned, scooting further on his bed. He shifted, giving her additional space. "Why was that? I know you spent time looking for me and trying to ensure that I was okay but… you had nightmares about it?"

"You've never read the prison records for Azkaban have you?"

"I never really saw a point to."

Draco nodded. "Azkaban might be a top security prison when it comes to keeping prisoners in, but the cells are not always perfect. Ours were built well enough to keep us in, but then again neither of us ever really tried to break the door down."

"Speak for yourself. Before you arrived I did that almost every day. I couldn't stand it in there. Sometimes the wood gave under my weight but not enough to ever break it. I just assumed there were probably wards in place to keep the doors from being opened."

"Why bother with spells when there's a fleet of dementors hanging around waiting for an escape? People escape from Azkaban all the time, just to be caught in the endless corridors and be put back in their cells. Meeting a dementor who's mad at you is pretty crushing for the soul. But not everyone runs into one right away. Some people can get quite far before they are caught. Some even get into other cells for one reason or another. I worried about that happening to you."

"The probability of that is very unlikely," she said, frowning. He saw her twitch a moment, but said nothing on the matter. "And even if someone did escape how would they know I was there if the roasters didn't even have it?"

"It was possible," he replied with a shrug. "The people locked in Azkaban are rarely friendly, and anyone would have to put up a major fight if someone entered their cell. But after the war hundreds of Death Eaters were imprisoned. If even one found out you were without a wand trapped in a cell…"

She grimaced. "I get the picture." Her tone softened before she spoke again. "You were really worried about me?"

"Yes, all the time. It bothers me even now that I couldn't get back there sooner."

"What's done is done Draco; you shouldn't beat yourself up over it. I'm just thankful that you did come back in the end. If not I would've died there."

He nodded, the pair falling into silence. They sat together on his bed, pondering their own thoughts.

"Would you care for that cup of tea now?"

"I would actually. It might soothe our souls."

"That's the idea," he replied, standing up. She followed suit, before looking around his room again.

"Draco?"

"Hmm?"

"Might we have tea in here tonight? I've never been in here before but it seems… pleasant."

He was surprised by her request, but it took only a moment for her to respond. "Yes, of course. Whatever you want."


	6. Chapter 6

Edited April 6, 2016.

Day 265

"Why won't you call me Hermione?" she asked, sitting on the edge of his bed. Due to her request five days ago, they now took their midnight tea in his room. He didn't complain, and she was careful not to spill the hot beverage all over his floor.

"Why do you call me Draco?"

She frowned. "That doesn't answer my question."

Shrugging, the blond sank further down in his bed. "No, it doesn't. I'm not sure why you choose to use my first name."

"Because we're on civil terms," she replied, as though this was the most obvious thing in the world. "You saved my life so I figured we were on a first name basis. Apparently it's just me."

"I called you Hermione when I dragged you out of that cell," he remarked, remembering the time clearly.

"Yes, but these days I can barely remember that. Is there some sort of appeal to calling me Granger?"

He shrugged. Tonight they hadn't gone to bed like normal, sleeping until she woke with nightmares. He invited her in to talk, opening up a whole new level of conversation that they hadn't quite had before. When midnight came around he prepared the tea as usual, and she brought it back to the room while he cleaned. They had been sitting in there for almost a half hour now, Hermione perched uncomfortably on the edge of the bed while he lounged about.

"You've always been Granger," he remarked, closing his eyes. "Even in Azkaban when we needed each other to survive. You've always been Granger, never Hermione. It's foreign to even say your name."

"Then you should try using it more," she replied, smiling at him. "I would like it if you tried."

"Why?"

"Because you used to call me Granger when you hated me and you were making fun of me. In Azkaban we addressed each other this way but now I feel like we've moved past petty disagreements. I use your correct name because to me it's something new to experience. It's like a doorway into something else. Now we don't hate each other."

The blond nodded. "Okay, fine. I'll use your name if you relax."

"What do you mean relax? I am relaxed."

Draco scoffed, opening one eye to stare at her. "You've been sitting upright like that for the past half hour or more. Relax a little. You back has to be hurting."

"I'm fine."

He rolled his eyes, reaching out to gently grab her wrist. Her eyes widened, glancing at the cup of tea in her hand. Expect for the first night she came in here to find Draco in the throws of a nightmare, she hadn't sat properly on the bed. It was like forbidden territory, something she couldn't quite will herself to do, as though sitting there would be like crossing boundaries. "Relax. You can sit on more than a centimeter of the bed you know."

"I don't know about that," she sighed, dropping her gaze.

Draco smirked, reaching up to grab the tea out of her hand and place it on the bedside table. He then grabbed her other wrist and gently pulled her down on the bed beside him, ignoring her surprised gasp.

"Draco!" she exclaimed, tumbling onto the bed beside him. She was closer than expected, practically right next to him. Immediately she scooted back from him, putting an adequate amount of space between them again, though she didn't miss his amused smirk.

"Hmm?"

She blushed, rocking awkwardly on the sheets beside him. "You don't find this awkward?"

"It's not awkward unless we make it awkward. It was worse when you were balancing dangerously on the edge of the bed there."

"I was fine you know."

"Sure, fine," he replied sarcastically, closing his eyes. "Relax Hermione, would you? I haven't given you a reason to not trust me."

She was quiet for many moments, watching the blond breathe quietly beside her. He looked at peace, completely comfortable with the idea of her sitting beside him on the bed. He wasn't making a fuss about it at all.

_So why am I?_

Hermione let her body relax, sinking into the sheets. Sure, they could keep talking, but he seemed content with their current situation and she wouldn't argue. His bed was comfortable, even better than hers, laden with exquisitely comfortable pillows and the softest sheets. He really didn't sell himself short of anything, debt or not. They seemed like a newer set of her own sheets.

She closed her eyes, exhaling happily. Strangely, it wasn't so odd to lay beside Draco after all.

* * *

"Hermione- Granger, hey, wake up."

She could feel the jostle of her shoulder, piercing through the subconscious and the nightmare. Eyes flying open she shoved the figure away from her, delusional and uncertain what was going on.

"Hey- calm down. It's just me."

Blinking through the darkness, she reached out her hand slowly and connected with another person, her hand resting upon a toned chest. She blinked repeatedly, the memory of where she was finally coming back.

"Draco?" she asked, searching for his familiar blond hair in the dark.

"Well at least you remember it's me. I was beginning to worry you'd clock me in the face when I tried waking you up."

Hermione frowned, reaching blindly for a light. He seemed to sense her movements, and a light from the other side of the bed came on. She glanced around at her surroundings.

"I didn't mean to fall asleep in here."

"I did too, so you can quit worrying. I didn't even realize we were asleep until you hit me in the head with your arm."

Blushing, she wiped her eyes to rid herself from the drowsiness of sleep. Her nightmare lingered in the back of her mind, but she tried to ignore it.

"Sorry."

He shrugged, looking tired and a bit disheveled from sleep. "It's a bit different to wake up with someone beside you after the nightmare, isn't it?"

"Yes."

"I know the feeling. I think I was having one too. Yours just woke me. You never screamed, but you did hit me in the head so…"

"So I never got as deep into the nightmare as usual," she muttered. "It wasn't as bad as usual."

Draco actually smiled at that. "Good, that's good. It's a start right?"

"They haven't been as bad since I came here," she admitted. "I mean, at Harry's I never got a good night's sleep. I wouldn't say that I've slept peacefully every night since I've been here, but they are more tolerable."

"And they will go away," Draco said, causing her to quirk an eyebrow. "I've told you before, my nightmares don't just stem from Azkaban."

Yawning the girl nodded, glancing at the clock. It was well-past three in the morning, but she didn't feel tired anymore. Now she was too awake, jostled by Draco straight out of the nightmare. Sitting up hesitantly she stretched before pulling her knees to her chest.

"What was your nightmare about?"

He frowned, the lighthearted mood disappearing from the room. "I don't really think it's something we need to discuss. We don't delve into the details of your nightmares."

Hermione frowned, jabbing him lightly in the side. "You're so defensive, you know that? You carry a lot on your shoulders, but you never let any of it off. How are you ever going to feel better if you don't share some of the load?"

Brushing her hand away, he shook his head. "It's my grief Hermione, the problems that I need to face. No one can help me change my past- _my_ mistakes."

She paused a moment, studying him. "You know, you want me to share all the time because you know that it will make me feel better. Perhaps it's time you stop preaching and take your own advice."

"You have no reason to listen to my problems."

"Of course I do! You offered yourself up to help me. It's the least I can do in return, since you refuse any other help."

Draco shook his head, closing his eyes again. "Let it be. I'm not going to disturb you further."

"I'll sit on you if you don't start talking," she argued childishly. "Come on Draco, even a little. You tell me all the time that I will never get better if I don't open up. It's the same for you."

"Why do you care about the details Hermione? I'm sure you already know the basics. Why delve into the details?"

"Well, I know part of it has to do with your family and the fallout. I know finances are bothering you extremely, even if you don't talk about it. You have your family's investments resting on your shoulders now and I'm sure those are lengthy and extremely unbalanced from the war. It would be surprising if you had those in order yet. I also know, just from personal experience, that you get attention in the papers all the time, but none of it is exceptionally positive. Harry told me about an article commending you for saving my life, but other than that there hasn't been a lot of positivity sent in your direction. It has to eat at your self-esteem. Plus-"

She was silenced as a hand came to rest over her mouth, the blond beside her groaning loudly. "You're a little too intuitive, you know that?"

"Did I hit the basics?" she questioned, gently pulling his hand away. She kept her grip on his wrist, fingers skimming the skin for a moment. He frowned, tensing at her movements.

"Mostly, yes. What are you doing?"

Frowning, she ran her fingers over his pale, smooth skin again. Slowly her eyes danced up to his, and he already knew the question lingering on her tongue.

"Where is your Dark Mark? I've never noticed before that it isn't there."

He retracted his arm, turning the sensitive inner skin away from her eyes. "I glamour it so people don't see it every day. I renew it whenever the mark begins to show."

Undeterred by his determination to hide the blank skin she scooted closer and extended her arm, grabbing his wrist once more. Draco tensed a second time, not only because she was persistent, but also because she was leaning over his body.

Again she ran her fingers over the smooth skin of his arm. "When did you start doing that?"

"Long before Azkaban," he admitted tensely. "After the fall of Voldemort, before the trials sentenced me to Azkaban I glamoured my arm every day. Everyone knows it's there, hidden beneath my shirt or a spell, but I feel less exposed if you can't see the details."

"You're afraid of it."

He frowned, attempting to pull away again. She remained firm on his arm, still half bent over his body. "I'm not afraid of the tattoo. It has no power anymore- but it isn't something I'm particularly fond of. It was a mistake on my part to ever take it."

"But it's a part of you," she mutters, looking up at his eyes. "I don't love all of my scars, but I don't glamour them. The word your aunt once carved into my arm is my least favorite scar of all, but I've never once tried to cover it. My scars made me who I am. They have made me stronger."

Draco glanced down towards her arm, the one he knew held the ugly word. He never looked for it whenever they were together; he already knew the very details of that scar after watching his aunt painstakingly carve it into her arm in a messy scrawl. He always knew it was there, a blemish on her near perfect skin, but he never dared to look.

Reaching out he gently grabbed her arm, flipping it over to reveal the patch of skin he so often ignored. Looking up he met her eyes.

"_This _is a scar," he said, indicating to her arm. "This is a battle scar, something you have overcome and survived. You got it because you were standing up against your enemies for something you believed in, even when it may have cost you your life. That's an act of bravery Hermione, the kind of scar people want to show off and talk about. What I have is a _tattoo_, a mistake. When I was young I wanted one more than anything so I could brag about it like my father. But taking the Dark Mark was the worst mistake of my life. It's not a scar that someone inflicted on me. I may have been scared at the time but I took it by personal choice. No one forced me to take it that day. It's a mistake, but it's not a scar worthy of anything. It's a blemish, one I can't forget and I'll hide it forever if I must, because I don't think I can stand to look at it again."

"You're very hard on yourself," she pointed out, covering her scar. "I'm not proud of my scar because it's something to show off or to be proud of in the first place. It simply means I survived. That's what your tattoo symbolizes too, whether or not you recognize that."

He sighed, letting go of her arm. She followed unison, and together they shifted away from one another again, replacing the typical amount of personal space that always existed between them.

"Maybe you'll un-glamour it sometime," she continued, closing her eyes. "I think I would like to see it sometime."

His head snapped over, turning to glance at the very calm witch. "Why would you ever want to look at something like this?"

"Because I want to see what you see," she responded with a yawn. "I want to see what you see that's so evil and terrible about it. A mark doesn't symbolize what you are. Only you can decide what it means to you, in your own eyes."

He nulled over her words, turning back to stare at the ceiling. A few minutes later he heard her breathing soften, and knew she had fallen asleep. Closing his eyes again he tried to fight off her words, wondering why she could impact him so much by saying so little.

He fell asleep listening to the rhythm of her breathing.

* * *

Day 266

"Weasley plans to come see you today," he said the following morning when she finally stumbled out of his bedroom. He'd been up for the past three hours working and left her in his room, deciding there was no harm in the matter. Glancing her over he chuckled.

"What? And why did Ron owl you and not me?"

"Oh, you know Weasley. He's trying to act big and buff and make me _concerned_ that he's coming over to check up on you."

"He doesn't need to check up on me," she grumbled. "Harry hasn't even stopped by to see me, and he's more accepting of the situation. Whatever could Ron want?"

"Who bloody knows. It's a good thing he doesn't plan to stop by for another hour though. With the disarray of your clothing and hair he might get the wrong idea of what we do at night."

Her cheeks burned red, and he chuckled again at her embarrassment. Glancing at the nearest mirror her eyes widened, taking in her lopsided pajamas, shorts and atrocious hair. It certainly looked like they did something other than talk the night before.

"You really are a restless sleeper," he joked, reading over some paperwork. Distracted, he completely missed her picking up a nearby pillow and was rather surprised when it hit him in the face.

"Very mature."

She smiled, before glancing back to her room. "I should clean myself up before Ron arrives. The last thing I want is to have some sort of awkward sex conversation with him."

"I'll make sure to make myself scarce when he arrives," Draco agreed, shuffling the papers together. "I hardly want to be around for that conversation."

Rolling her eyes at the comments, she sauntered away, determined to clean herself up now that the day was well underway. He watched her leave despite himself, distracted indeed by her apparel and his not so clean-cut comments.

_Pull yourself together Draco. You're almost flirting with her. That sort of behavior can only spell trouble._

He shook his head, returning to what he was doing. Thankfully that morning he was able to distract her and avoid reverting back to the unexpected topics of last night. He personally avoided having to talk about his own nightmares, but they got a lot closer than he ever expected. He wasn't prepared to deal with another conversation like that.

* * *

Hermione returned to the living room a short time later, surprised by the site before her. Despite the loathsome looks being shot between the two men, she was momentarily distracted by the appearance of an old face.

"Ron!"

Her old friend had been avoiding her a lot since her return, and the fact that he stepped out of his comfort zone and came to Draco's flat of all places spoke volumes about his determination to see her. The sour look slid of his face as the brunette ran up, throwing her arms around his neck.

"Oh, it's so good to see you! I was beginning to wonder if you'd ever speak to me again."

"Of course," he laughed, seeming lighter than he had in a very long time. The few times she ever saw Ron he was stiff and uncomfortable around her, and most of the time he didn't say a word.

"What brings you by?" she asked, pulling away. "I see you already stumbled upon…"

Turning, she noticed Draco was nowhere to be found. Apparently he used their sappy-hugging time to escape back to his room. Hermione frowned a moment before Ron distracted her again.

"Can we talk?" he asked, guiding her to the nearest sofa. She sat beside her longtime friend, smiling at her first love.

"Sure. What's on your mind Ron?"

He bit his lip, looking away from the pretty girl in front of him. Several moments passed before he bothered to speak. "You're looking well Hermione - better actually I think since you came back from Azkaban. You have a shine in your eyes again."

"Do I?" she asked, having not noticed the difference. Sure, she felt airier than she had before, but she hadn't speculated as to why.

"I guess you feel more at home at Malfoy's than Harry's."

"Oh Ron, don't start on that. I feel comfortable where I feel comfortable. Things have changed. Draco isn't the stranger he used to be to me. We've gotten closer."

"How much closer?"

She sighed, sensing the bitterness in his tone. "Why did you come by today Ron? And why did you owl Draco about it instead of owling me?"

"I needed him to open up the floo for me."

"You could have owled me as well."

They lapsed into an awkward silence. Hermione couldn't remember the last time she was alone in a room with just Ron. Either he was in the back of a space ignoring her, or Lavender was directly at his side, scowling at her the entire time. The fact that he came and spoke to her, alone nonetheless, told her something important bothered his mind, and although it seemed hopeless she sincerely wished she wasn't the reason.

"Why are you here Ron?" she sighed again, the warmhearted visit gone now. "Isn't your wedding drawing closer? Lavender must be having a fit that you aren't there helping her plan."

He flinched at her words, and she frowned, wondering what exactly that reaction meant. "I told Lavender that I needed a little break and would be gone for a few hours today."

"But you didn't tell her you were coming to see me, did you?" she asked, hands gripping the leather of the sofa. He was sneaking around his fiance to come see her. Something about that didn't sit well with her, even if it was Lavender.

"No… I left that part out."

"You know she doesn't like me. She'll have a fit if she finds out you were here _and _you didn't tell her."

"I didn't want her to know."

She cocked her head, frowning at his words. Scooting away slightly she looked him directly in the eyes, her voice dropping low and serious.

"Ron, what are you doing here?"

He hesitated many moments before acting, as though contemplating his own insanity. In one swift motion he had her head cradled in one hand, the other lying on her thigh. The moment his lips connected with hers she knew he'd lost his bloody mind.

It wasn't forceful, but sweet and borderline broken. She had kissed Ron many times before her kidnapping, and his kisses were never as desperate as they were just then.

They were also never as empty. She couldn't make her lips work with his even if she wanted too; the movement was too sloppy and disjointed to even bother.

She placed a hand on his chest, forcing him back. He stopped immediately, eyes angled downward. She could see the distress clear across his features.

"Stop, Ron. You're forcing something that isn't going to happen."

He looked crestfallen, but nonetheless glanced up a second time. He kept his hands as they were, leaning in a second time with more forceful kisses, as though he could somehow change her mind. He attacked her with the same desperate, loveless kisses as before, his hands holding her tighter to him.

"Ron- Ron, stop- Ron!"

She pushed him away, his hands falling off her without objection. Jumping up she placed distance between them, stepping behind Draco's chair for extra protection.

"Stop Ron," she said, her voice dropping again. "You're forcing yourself."

He held his head, dropping his eyes as he cradled his skull. His body shook slightly, not in anger, and not because he was crying. She stood back and watched him fight with himself.

Footsteps caught her attention, and she glanced over to see Draco appear looking concerned and a bit tense. She noted how his fingers inched towards his pocket as he drew closer, and she realised he intended to draw his wand. Before he could speak and make any sort of accusations, she moved and placed a hand over his mouth, the other gripping the hand at his pocket, temporarily distracted from Ron.

"Don't say anything," she whispered, noticing how much darker his eyes were than normal. There was something there she hadn't seen before, something she couldn't quite name just then. "Nothing happened - nothing bad. Before you blow up, just let me talk to him."

Pulling her hands away slowly she watched him remain still, out of the loop and tense about the situation. Turning back to Ron she noticed his head was up now, eyes slightly red. He had been watching them interact. The quick twitch of his lip told her he didn't approve, and after attempting to shove his tongue down her throat she doubted he ever would.

She stepped around the chair, moving to sit in it. Taking a breath she already knew what she needed to say; she already knew what he had intended.

"It's not going to work Ron," she said, her tone a little void of emotion. "Don't make a mistake now when your wedding is drawing closer. You don't love me that way anymore."

Hermione expected it to hurt more when she said those words out loud, but they barely affected her. She had accepted that truth long ago.

Ron shook his head, eyes downcast again. He looked ashamed in himself. "I had to know. I had to know if there was something still there before I marry Lavender. I'm sorry I took so long... I didn't know how to handle everything and you... coming back."

"There isn't anything left for us," she replied, eyeing him. "You don't love me anymore, we both know that. I don't know what made you think we did-"

"We went to the boutique," he whispered, barely audible. "The one Mum used to go to all the time. She never bought anything, but she always mused about the weddings her children would have. Remember, we went together once."

"I remember."

"I assumed from the beginning that you didn't love me anymore," he continued, speaking more to himself than to the other people in the room. "You came back from Azkaban to learn that I had given up on you. Why would you love me then?"

"Ron-"

"And I wasn't sure how to feel. I figured that everything was over, and I already planned to propose to Lavender before your return. People knew it. If I changed my mind because you were back it would send everything into question. She was afraid that I would fall in love with you again, but I kept assuring her that everything was fine."

"Ron-"

"Then we went back to that shop, and I remembered everything I had been blocking out about you. I remembered our plans and musings and how you had millions more plans than I. And it made me wonder… what would have happened if you hadn't been taken."

"Maybe in another life we would have been together," she said, cutting in before he could speak again. "But Ron we both knew before you started kissing me that there's no love left there. We broke apart because of what happened and there's no going back on that. You have to stop now though. We can't go back and change something that's broken, not when things are taking such different directions. Go back and tell Lavender where you were. You're about to be married; you owe her some honesty on the matter."

"But-"

"You do," she pressed. "She loves you in a way I never will again. Go and enjoy your future wife. Don't hold onto something that we let fall apart."

He stared at her for a long time before glancing up at the furious blond above her. Those guarded, haunting eyes dared him to try something again. Standing slowly, he looked at her once more.

"I'm sorry. I should've just left things as they were."

Ron left with no more words exchanged, and Hermione couldn't say that she was disappointed. As he left she felt a weight lift up off her, one that had been pressing on her since he kissed her. He didn't look heartbroken when he left, or crushed or hurt. He looked at peace with his actions, even if he didn't need to go to such extremes. She got her point across, and he agreed completely.

_Now if he hadn't kissed me I wouldn't have anything to explain to Draco._

A hand came to rest on her shoulder and she glanced back at the blond, who was looking her over for signs of injury. She smiled at him, standing from the chair.

"I'm fine you know."

He titled his head to the side, still out of the loop. "What happened?"

Shaking her head, she turned and wrapped her arms around his body. He was stiff for a moment before he accepted the hug, glancing back towards the vacated fireplace.

"I'll tell you later," she sighed, closing her eyes. "Can't we just sit and have tea?"

* * *

**A/n:** It's not really an ending for a chapter, but there's number six. We'll see Draco's reactions to everything and maybe hear about their nightmares next time.

For anyone wondering the final chapter for Dipping into the Dark Side is underway and Accidents Happen is in the works.

Thanks for all the feedback and reviews! Keep them coming lovelies I so appreciate them :D

Until next time~

Haley


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Edited April 13, 2016

Day 266 Continued

"I can't believe he kissed you," Draco said, his voice lying somewhere between pissed off and completely puzzled. "I thought he loved that flower girl."

"Lavender?"

"Yes, whatever her name is," he huffed, brushing back blond locks. "He's a fool for jeopardizing his marriage so close to the actual date. If I recall she's the exceptionally jealous type. What if she confronts you? What if she's dense enough to believe it's your fault Granger?"

"Then I'll tell her the exact same thing I told Ron," Hermione replied, no hesitation in her voice. "I don't love him anymore. In another life, if circumstances were different, then maybe we would still be together. But he can't pick up all the broken pieces and start again where we left off. It's just over, I know that. I've come to realize that over the past days."

"You don't sound heartbroken. When you first returned from Azkaban and learned that Weasley was set to be married you almost died." He smirked, crossing strong arms over his chest as he stared at her beside him. "Good on you for moving on with your life. You're much more composed than I thought you would be."

They sat together in the living room on the sofa, Hermione's legs pulled up with her feet resting beside Draco's hip. Their tea sat forgotten on the table in front of them, cold now as they continued talking instead of sipping.

"I can't dwell," she replied with a shrug. "Ron will still be a part of my life - all my friends will be - he just won't be a part of my romantic life anymore. In Azkaban I had different hopes, I didn't necessarily care how reality was going to work out, so instead I hoped for the best and dreamed my life would never have to change. It was a fools hope." She shook her head, staring off somewhere past him. "And maybe that's all for the better. Ron isn't the greatest at handling emotional baggage, and right now I have a lot of it. I don't think we would mesh together again after everything. Azkaban made me different, and my absence changed Ron."

"He's just afraid of emotions in general," Draco snapped, stretching out on the sofa. He didn't look as convinced as she did about everything, doubt cloudy his stormy eyes. "You can see it in his face. Lavender even makes him uncomfortable when it comes to confronting too many emotions. I've seen it when I came to visit you, and your friends were already there. She's uncomfortable when his emotions step out of line, and she's completely uncomfortable when it's about you. Insecurity will grow to be that girls greatest weakness."

"Yeah, but Lavender sometimes makes everyone uncomfortable," she countered, resting her head back against the cushions. They sat there like that for a long time, completely comfortable in each other's presence.

"You know," she said after a time, tapping her fingers lightly against her raised knees, testing her boundaries, "I am still very bored spending all of my time here with nothing to do."

"Oh?" he asked, eyes focused away from her. He knew where this topic was going, they approached the topic before but he still didn't like discussing it.

"And you spend all of your time fussing over those papers-"

"_Hermione_-" he stressed, turning to glare at her.

"So please just let me help you," she sighed. "Draco, come on. Organization was my mastery at Hogwarts. During third year I took a double set of classes using a time turner."

He stalled briefly. "What?"

Shaking her head, she sat straighter. "Never mind. The point is that I'm great at getting things in order, financially, structurally, and just in general. You're obviously in over your head and really I have nothing else to do to occupy my time. Sometimes you go out and I stay here to do absolutely nothing. I tried organizing other things here, but that's all said and done now. I've applied plenty of places but none of them are what I really want. Those positions won't be open for months. I just don't want to handle the reporters out there, and going out for useless jobs won't help me and I refuse to be promoted over others who worked for where they are. But you go out for work sometimes, right? You go and handle things at Gringott's and who knows where else. Those would be great, simple outings. Those are things I can do until the positions I want start to open up."

"You know it's really not as joyful and simple as you think it is," he groaned, watching her carefully. "My life's a mess. You can't just file it back together."

"And I'm ready for a challenge," she exclaimed "Seeing Ron was like a wakeup call. Everyone, even you, is moving on with their lives as I sit here doing literally nothing, hoping something worthwhile comes my way. Just sitting back and waiting for my weight to improve and my mind to fully clear won't do the trick anymore. I need to get back into the swing of things. And just doing something here will help me feel like my old self."

Draco hesitated, having hidden his financial deficits from Hermione since the moment she arrived. His problems with money really weren't anything that she needed to fuss over. Business, organization and financials were all part of the burdens his parents left behind, and they were his alone to shoulder.

But he knew she was right, and although their talks were good for her soul they weren't going to help her spring back into a regular lifestyle, Voldemort free.

Sighing, he stood from the sofa and disappeared back into the halls. She waited expectantly, knowing long before he returned exactly what he was going to grab.

The stack of parchment was larger than she recalled, thicker with crinkled papers hidden in the midst. She glanced up at him as he sat down in the chair nearby, folding his hands neatly.

"You might just drown in a paperwork overload."

"You've been drowning for a long time," she replied, picking up the first paper. It was a letter, a claim for a final notice from Gringotts. Surprised, her eyes flickered up and met his own, which were clouded and troubled.

"I thought your family was rich," she continued, leaning back in her seat. "Draco, what exactly aren't you telling me? The bank typically doesn't send in final notices, tax collectors and-"

"I owe a lot of people money on my family's behalf," he interrupted, "The bank included. The Malfoy trust fund is large, and if I could just get to the fucking money-"

"What do you mean get to? It's yours isn't it, now that your father has passed and you're the next in line?"

"Yeah, you would think wouldn't you?" he grumbled, shaking his head. "My father kept all our money under tight security because of the war, and ancient spells ensured that despite everything we would not lose our standing in with the rich. Unfortunately he never bothered to share with anyone what kinds of spells he was using, and I've had a very difficult time getting into the vaults. During the war Gringotts wasn't very particular about what Death Eater's did to their vaults. I have money, lots of it, but it's impossible to get to and debts are piling up still."

"Can't the goblins just break the wards? It's their bank, they should have absolute jurisdiction and command. Can't they override the spells?"

"Maybe, goblin magic is different than our magic. The problem is I doubt they want to help me. I mean really, why would they feel obligated to?"

"Because it's their job!" she snapped. "Background or not, you're a good person _today_ Draco, and you pay your annual fee to keep your space. They owe you simply for that alone."

"They are just like people," he says with a shrug. "You have to redeem yourself in society's eyes. I just apparently haven't done enough yet."

"You've done plenty," she snapped, hands on her hips. "Now, just stop discouraging yourself, would you?"

"I'm being honest Hermione."

"Then we're going to make people see the real you- _the_ changed you," she emphasized.

"I don't think that's possible," he said sadly.

"That's because you haven't let me help you yet." Standing, she grabbed his hand and dragged him up, looking directly into his eyes. "Take a hot bath or something; give me a bit of time to sort through that mess. We'll get this figured out just fine."

"You're so confident."

"Because every problem has a solution," she responded honestly. "Now go, take a break for a bit. I'll help you get this sorted out."

"You're sure?"

"Positive," Hermione said, smiling widely. "Just trust me Draco; I've trusted you."

Sighing, he knew she was right. Hermione was a knowledgeable person in school, and he knew she had only gotten smarter as the war progressed. Even the traumas of being locked away did nothing to deter her knowledge on a subject. If anyone could help him it was her.

Pulling her closer to him briefly he acted on his own accord, not entirely processing what he was doing until it was too late to back out. He wasn't exactly intending to kiss her, it just happened. At first it seemed like the perfect way to show his unexplainable gratitude.

Thankfully she didn't stiffen, and instead sank into the feeling of Draco's lips. He was so universally different from Ron, and she found herself happy that he was the one kissing her and not her former crush. She just didn't understand what suddenly drove him to do so, but she didn't dare argue.

They parted after only a few seconds, and Hermione watched him disappear down the hallway once again. He was a charmer even when he wasn't exactly trying to be, but in the aftermath of their brief kiss he left her with even more to think about.

* * *

"What _are _you doing?"

"Organizing," Hermione replied dismissively, continuing to stack papers in the correct order. "Your lack of organization with documents rivals Ron's. His schoolwork was particularly hard to decipher."

"Now you're comparing me to Weasel?" he asked, stepping closer to the table. She had thick files everywhere, labeled and set into various sections. "Is that a folder inside a folder?"

"You need that folder. Draco, I found bill collection letters mixed in with balances from the bank mixed in with inquiries about the Manor mixed in with some lawsuits on your family name mixed in with one particularly angry letter from a goblin at Gringotts named Alabaster."

"He wasn't very fond of me," he grumbled, glancing over the stacks a second time. "So this insanity with folders is going to help me?"

"Actually, yes. See amongst all the nonsense and the very angry letter from Alabaster I found something that doesn't seem to fit into the mix at all."

"And what is that?"

She reached forward, pulling out a piece of paper she had hidden from view. Handing it over, he immediately tensed up.

"It's a bill, that's for certain. But it was also paid ages ago. You never told me you went to see a therapist after you got out."

"It was a onetime deal," he said tensely. "It did nothing to help me."

"You still never mentioned you were that troubled. Was that because of the bills, the stress, or me?"

"A little bit of everything," he sighed, burning the paper with a flick of his fingers. "I didn't realize it was still in there."

"Obviously not," she agreed, putting the final bit of paper in place. "There, everything is finally organized. Now keep your wet hair away from the folders. I just got everything set up."

"Yes, a file system. It still looks as cluttered as what I had before."

"Not at all. I put everything in colored folders under importance values. It begins with bills, leading down to the Manor, which is just sitting there right now. You can worry about Malfoy Corporations first."

"Of course, the crumbling family business."

"Which you could save," she interjected. "I glanced at a few things as I was putting papers away. The industry has a lot of influence in plenty of companies. I know investing sounds silly, but as soon as the vaults with your money are opened up you should be fine to pay for just everything. And getting your business in with good industries and donators will help improve your status Draco."

"What exactly are you going on about? My family's business is crumbling as we speak. I've removed so many employees because they were associated with the dark arts that I have hardly anyone else spread throughout Europe, and those remaining employees are eating the last bits of money I have."

"That's just it though. Now that you're removing yourself from the dark arts you'll have so many possibilities to change the face of Malfoy Corporations. Once your vaults are open-"

"Which by the way, how exactly is that going to happen? I already explained this to you, and you're getting ahead of me. I don't even have the money at hand to handle the ideas you're producing."

"You're going to have the money," she said coyly, giving him a grin, "Because I'm going to help you get it."

"How are you going to do that?"

"By getting the money back of course," Hermione replied, as though it was the most obvious thing. "We're going to hire you a spell breaker."

* * *

Day 275

Hermione had been hard to work the past nine days. Draco hadn't seen her so alive and motivated since school. She really threw herself into the work, sending _him_ out to talk to people while she got everything in order. He wasn't even entirely sure what she was planning anymore.

This was the Hermione Granger he remembered from his childhood. The eager girl who wanted nothing more than to accomplish her newest task as she worked towards a goal, nose deep in papers and books. Hell, he had contacted a spell breaker just yesterday and today she was going out for the very first time on an honest to god trip.

They were going to Gingotts. He wasn't sure it would work, but Hermione seemed determined. She had gone out yesterday alone, slipping out while he was away handling something else. He was rather annoyed when he discovered her note explaining her absence.

_I've gone to Gringotts. Please don't be mad. I won't be long; I just have a few keen questions to ask. I hope to beat you home, but if you happen to find this note know that I'm fine. I'm not going to do anything dangerous and I'm taking the floo system directly there and back. I'll be back before you know it._

Truth be told he'd been angry in that moment. He felt like she was going to get herself all worked up again, as she hadn't really gone out alone since the initial incident in Diagon Alley and he worried what would happen when he wasn't there to comfort her. Sure, she went out every now and then searching for jobs but most of the work was done via the mailing system.

But his fears were quickly dashed when she returned home.

Hermione found out that no matter whether or not the goblins liked him, they were unable to get into the vault that was locked. She insisted that a spell breaker was increasingly important, and also decided to inform him that they would be returning tomorrow to really open his vault.

He had asked how she got answers to a vault that wasn't hers. Apparently she didn't ask for a specific one, and instead just asked general questions. The goblins, nasty as they could be, remembered her from the papers and that she was Harry Potter's friend and were a bit kinder on her.

"You seriously think this is going to work?" he asked as they readied to leave. She sent him an annoyed look, zipping her jumper up.

"Yes Draco, I've been telling you that since last night. I know this is going to work. Now, just imagine how good things will be when you can pay off all those bills? You can restart Malfoy Corporations as something to be proud of, and then we can look at the Manor. Just have some faith that everything will work out."

"Aside from saving you, which took a ton of time, things haven't really been working out for me."

"Well we're going to change you luck," she continued, squeezing his hand. "Trust me, I researched and found the absolute best spell breaker in Britain. Harry and Ron helped me find him."

He raised an eyebrow. "And the duo didn't wonder why you needed a spell breaker?"

"I didn't delve into the details," she said honestly. "They can find out the truth themselves when we redeem your name. For right now it's too complicated a story to try and explain to them. Ron was coming up with all these ridiculous ideas as to why I needed one."

Draco nodded, straightening his tie. "And how is the Weasel? Is he still trying to cheat on his bride?"

"Don't be bitter Draco, it was a onetime deal. He's done nothing of the sort since."

"Is that only because Potter is always around?"

Sighing, Hermione shook her head. "He's not going to do anything Draco, don't be jealous. You're the only person I really want to kiss."

He inhaled sharply when she suddenly planted a brief, unexpected kiss on his lips before heading to the floo. Over the past nine days they had brief romantic moments that spanned outside the realm of reality they were used to. Getting romantic with her was dangerous. He feared pushing her over the edge.

Then again, she always proved to be stronger than he bargained for.

Arriving at the bank seemed surreal to Draco. People glanced their way as he followed Hermione to the front, his key burning in his pocket. It would do no good until after the spells were taken off, but he would still need it. But they were drawing the kind of attention Hermione wanted to avoid, yet she held her head high and ignored the sparse onlookers.

"What was that man's name again?" she asked as they neared the front.

"Lance something. He had a very boring name, but he seems to be the best."

She glanced around, spotting a man who appeared to fit the image Harry and Ron had given her. Unfortunately Draco hadn't met him they didn't actually know what he looked like. "Lance!"

A tall man in his late forty's glanced up before wandering over to meet the pair. He had a kind smile and eyes full of insight. "Hello. You must be Miss Granger. And hello, Mr. Malfoy."

Hermione smiled at his formality. "Please, if I'm calling you Lance then you can certainly address us by first name. It's Hermione and Draco."

"Yes of course," he agreed, nodding to Draco. "So I hear you have a vault that your father enchanted."

"I don't know who else would. The magic is bloody ancient, and I don't know anything about the complicated locking and protection spells he used," Draco spat, annoyed to be questioned by a stranger. Was it just him or did he sound kind of condescending? He wouldn't be able to handle any lip from this idiot.

The man nodded, smiling to the pair, clearly ignoring Draco's snippy tone. "That's what I'm here for. I've never had the opportunity to try my magic at a bank before, let alone Gringotts. It should be fun."

Sending him a second smile Hermione turned and addressed the head goblin at the front of the room. "I would like to see Mr. Malfoy's vault - now."

* * *

It always surprised him how efficient Hermione could be. The goblins listened to her better than they ever did him, and getting to his vault was less of a hassle than he expected. He rarely bothered coming to visit anymore now that the vault was untouchable, and a fine layer of dust had collected across the keyhole and door.

"Mr. Malfoy's vault," the goblin explained, looking up at the spell breaker. "If you are smart, you'll break the spell. The money inside could pay for the rest of your life."

To Draco, the process should have taken longer than it did. But just as Hermione had promised, he really was the best in Britain. Maybe the goblins inability to remain humble and quite spurred Lance to open the vault and find the riches inside. And when the lock on his vaults opened for the first time in well over a year he was more than a bit stunned.

Her reaction to the money hidden inside was funny, and Draco felt a weight slowly lift off his chest when he finally realized his financial problems were over. After months of no one being able to enter the vault he finally did, relishing in the pounds and pounds of money sitting about.

After paying Lance handsomely the blond sat down, overcome with relief. His bills would be minuscule now, and he would pay them all - including the bank - right away.

"This is all your money," Hermione said in awe, looking around. She couldn't imagine how long the room of wealth stretched, but it really put a volume to the ungodly amount of wealth Draco possessed.

"Most of it. Some of it lies in the Manor - quite a bit if you judge it against someone's regular earnings, but I haven't ventured there yet. I would rather deal with Gringotts than go there."

"I understand," she said sympathetically. "I'm just glad I could ease some of the stress off your shoulders. You seem so relieved to be able to pay the bills."

"You have no idea."

"And… maybe some time later we can talk about modifications to Malfoy Corporations?"

He chuckled, nodding his head at the amounts around him. "I can reopen my accounts now that the money is accessible. I couldn't withdraw when the spells were in place, but I'll be able to pay everything off almost immediately when we arrive back at the flat. Later we can worry about Malfoy Corporations and redeeming my family name and all that Hermione, but let me spoil you tonight - please. You accomplished in ten days what I haven't been able to do in over six months."

"You're welcome," she replied, slightly arrogantly. For the first time in months she felt like she was really doing something with her life. "See? You should have let me help you from the start."

"Yes, I should've," Draco agreed, leading her from the vault. She was so free-spirited and witty now, so much like her former self. Hiding inside so much was doing her no good. She'd only been venturing outside for less than two weeks, and already he could see the differences.

Hermione was alive - _really _alive. For the first time since coming out of Azkaban, she was living an actual life. He smiled wider, watching her as she walked slightly ahead of him. It was good to see that shine back in her again.

He would do nothing to deter it. Anything she wanted to do in order to continue improving like this, he would see to it that it happened. Draco just wanted to see her live again.

* * *

"That was a very extravagant dinner," she mused as they stepped back into the apartment later. Immediately after arriving home earlier that day Draco threw himself into paying bills, sending off each payment in a letter immediately. He got several responses even before they left to eat that night.

"I have the money to spend now," he replied, grinning ear to ear. "No more living on a blasted budget and hoping ends meet."

"Even your idea of cutting corners is still pretty far-fetched from the average person's," Hermione said with a smile.

Shrugging, he tossed his jacket down on the nearby sofa and fell onto the couch. She followed suit, leaving the cozy outdoor jacket on as she stripped off her gloves and hat. Placing them on the table, she caught sight of a familiar marking across Draco's skin. Grasping his arm before he could react, she traced her fingers over his tattoo. He shivered at the feeling.

"I thought you said you glamoured this?"

"Typically, yes. Since I've been wearing a long shirt all day and we were going out in this chilly weather I didn't see much of a point to. Besides, I woke up late and skipped the charm. It was lighter this morning when yesterday's magic was still intact."

"You should leave it like this all the time."

"Hermione-"

"I'm serious," she emphasized, scooting closer to his warm body. Pulling back the sleeve of her jacket she revealed the carved words on her arm. "Come on, it's not like you are the only one bearing a mark you'd rather not remember. We both survived something terrible. You shouldn't hide who you once were; it's morphed you into who you are. I believe I told you that once before."

"You have," Draco agreed, soothing his fingers over her arm. "I'm still not sure I agree with your idea."

"Well you should get on board with it," she said coyly. Sitting straighter, she met his eyes again. "I had a thought."

"I think you're _always _having a thought Hermione."

Huffing, she continued as though he hadn't spoken, "We should visit your office - the office at your main building. I noticed a letter from one of your head managers said that you haven't been in for months."

"I've had other things to take care of."

"That namely means money and me," she said, arching an eyebrow. "Both of which are just fine now. You need to go in and straighten things out. Fire the employees who aren't the good sort of people. Hire on new workers - there are plenty of people looking for work right now. Reestablish your company, just like I suggested to you."

"And you want to do all of that when, tomorrow? We just went through a strenuous day! Don't you want to give yourself a rest?"

"Yes, surprisingly I do," she admitted, stretching. "I'm kind of tired from the work I've put in for you, and for the record tomorrow is Friday. I'm going to take a long weekend."

"You aren't even my employee!" he laughed, before sobering up. "But that doesn't mean I won't pay you. I'll make sure you're paid handsomely for helping me out."

"You don't need to pay me," the brunette replied, raising her eyebrows. "I did this to busy myself, though it turned out to be more than that. I'm just happy I helped Draco, you've done so much for me."

"Hermione, you owe me nothing," he reminded, eyes dancing over her face. "I'll pay you for your troubles like I should. I won't take no for an answer."

She sighed, knowing he wouldn't let the topic go. Relenting she settled back against the sofa again, closing her eyes.

"So next week we'll go… say, Tuesday?" she asked sleepily, feeling her eyes grow heavier and heavier.

"Tuesday it is."

* * *

Day 276

Hermione found herself awake long after Draco slipped under sleep's heavy blanket, despite how tired her body felt. His rhythmic breathing should ease her soul, only she had too many things on her mind. From Ron's secret cheating self to her own personal nightmares her mind was playing ping pong, wondering which problem to confront first. Some were easier to consider than others.

The past eleven days had been perfect for her. She'd been busy and she had to make her mind work. Draco's paperwork was a perfect starter job to ease her into working again. The idea of having a full work load was elating, and she couldn't wait to get started. Whether or not she stayed on and continued to work with Draco and Malfoy Corporations was not yet decided for her.

Tossing back and forth she fought for sleep. The entire day had been eventful, and she should feel tired and dead. Yet her body wouldn't let her slip into unconsciousness, and Draco had passed out very early that night. It was only two in the morning, and he had been asleep for a few hours.

She gasped slightly when an arm suddenly snaked out and wrapped around her middle, drawing her in close to the warm body behind her. They fit together like two pieces of a puzzle, molding to one another perfectly.

"Sleep Hermione," he muttered, his hand spanning across her middle.

Closing her eyes, she breathed deeply. It was new to sleep like this, but she found it comforting to be so close to him. Sighing, she found sleep a few short minutes later, encased in Draco's comforting hold.

* * *

**A/n:** Reviews and responses are always welcome. Until the next chapter my dears! And for a status update, there are about 3-4 chapters left.


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: Edited April 13, 2016

Day 276 Continued

She sat staring at the bold-faced letters of the invitation, the names scratched across decorative parchment in elegant scrawl. She had discarded this particular piece of paper ever since Ron visited ten days ago. Beforehand it was a thought in the back of her mind, something she only vaguely thought about for the briefest moments of time.

"Are you going to go?" he asked, stepping from the bathroom. Draco left her alone in his bed a short time ago, having dropped the forgotten invitation in her lap before his shower. "It might be awkward."

"Ron convinced Lavender to invite me to the wedding because I'm one of his best friends," she muttered, her voice foreign sounding even to her own ears. "She didn't want me to go, but in the end they sent it anyway - even if it was sent very late. How could I have possibly forgotten about their wedding? Ron was here mentioning it not so long ago."

"He was also busy having conflicting emotions," Draco grumbled, his shirt half buttoned. He didn't miss the way her eyes danced across him dreamily, nor how they flinted to his tattoo should be for the briefest of moments, for it was once again hidden beneath a glamour spell.

"Everyone is going to be there," Hermione sighed. "Reporters, my friends - everyone I've been avoiding since getting out of Azkaban. I don't know if I can handle all those people."

"You won't be the center of attention at someone else's wedding Hermione, and even if you were Brown would surely throw you out for stealing her limelight. Go as a guest, if you think you can stomach seeing Weasley."

"I'm not repulsed by my friend Draco," she said, setting the letter aside. "I'm disappointed in how he handled a sensitive topic, when he knows he doesn't love me anymore. But if he's going through with his wedding then I can only hope that he told Lavender the truth. It'll be bad if she discovers this later down the road. She does have a temper."

"So I've heard."

Standing from the bed she straightened her pajamas, casting a look towards his closet. "I'm going."

"Seriously? You forgot about the date completely. I only reminded you because I knew you'd kill me if I didn't. Why would you want to go to this bloody wedding? I mean, the theme is _purple_."

"Cliché as it is Draco, I would like to be there on my friend's wedding day. I don't want to stay long, and certainly we'll disappear shortly after the ceremony to avoid speaking to literally everyone, but I want to be there to support him. At least he's happy enough in his relationship to wed. The Lavender I knew in sixth year would never make it as his wife, but the hard, defensive Lavender I met back in my hospital room will be good for him. I think they'll work together well."

"Perhaps you're right. But, correct me if I am wrong Hermione, but I keep hearing something about _we_."

"Yes, _we _\- as in, you and me. We're going to the wedding."

"Why am I going?" he snapped, eyes widening in horror. "Weasley will die if he sees me there - actually, maybe I want to go after all."

Hermione rolled her eyes at him, crossing her arms over her chest. "I do have a guest invitation, and I would like you to be mine. Come on Draco, you took me to that fancy dinner last night!"

"That's completely different; you actually liked that!"

"Then pretend to like this," she giggled, smiling. "The wedding is at four, which gives us plenty of time to prepare. I can even help you organize, and we can talk about Malfoy Corporations before we have to really start getting ready."

He shook his head, looking at the woman across from him. "You really go a billion miles an hour when you're feeling well, don't you?"

* * *

He smirked, watching as she downed her fourth glass of champagne without batting an eye. Hermione was clearly uncomfortable with all the attention aimed her way now that cocktail hour had ensued, and he was more than a bit amused by her discomfort.

"Didn't people used to gawk at you _before_ you disappeared?"

"Not this much," she grumbled unhappily, grabbing his hand as they stepped back into the shadows, away from the crowd. "Besides, for once you're getting stares too."

"I'm a Slytherin, ex-Death Eater at Weasley's wedding. Of course people are staring at me. I hardly blend in."

"You never blend in," she sighed, glancing at the people around them. "Look, we've talked to plenty enough people and we've managed to avoid reporters. Lavender and Ron even said hello to us, and they smiled. I've accomplished what I needed to. Let's get out of here. I don't want to keep avoiding all of her curious friends."

He nodded, setting aside his own beverage. "Of course. I figured you wouldn't want to stay long. And by all means, I don't want to be here any longer than I have to be. Some dolt asked if I still had the Dark Mark earlier. I nearly hexed him."

Despite her nerves, Hermione smiled slightly at the humor in his statement as they made their way towards the exit. She had seen Harry and Ginny in passing, but said little to them before or after the wedding. They were busy being the maid of honor and best man, and she didn't want to bother them during pictures. It was easiest to escape while everything was going smoothly. She could owl them tomorrow about the wonderful event. After all, Ron and Lavender looked too happy at the moment. She wouldn't interrupt the wedding to bother him, no sir. She could do that in a letter, and he best not lie if he knew what was good for him.

They were nearly out of the wedding, her patience with perturbing questions running thin when they were halted by someone carrying a camera. She cringed, knowing instantly who was behind the lens.

Dennis Creevey. He started photography after Colin died - or at least that was what Ginny told her initially. He was barely mentioned since her return, brushed over in conversation and nothing more. She wasn't excited about seeing him now.

"Hermione," he said, striking a smile as he took a quick photo of them together. In the lens she caught Draco's reflection, annoyed and brooding.

"Dennis," she said kindly, smiling. It wasn't part of the plan to be stopped halfway to her destination, and if she remembered anything about Dennis at all he was such a chatterbox.

"Great to see you," he said, finally pulling back to properly shake her hand. He looked well, glancing between the duo. "I was taking some photos of Ron and Lavender for Witch Weekly-"

"_You_ work for that abomination of a magazine?" she asked, positively horrified. That print was nothing but gossip, and if he reported anything like Skeeter did she doubted a thing was true.

"I do indeed, got a job just after the war. I've been working there for months. Say, could I get a spread on you for the magazine? My editor would love that!"

She cringed, pushing the camera down when he raised it again. "No Dennis, thank you. I'm not interested in talking to the press about my time in Azkaban. There's really nothing to report, so if you excuse me-"

"So are the rumors fake then?" he pressed, stepping in her way when she tried to move. Surprised she stopped, glancing back at Draco who was suddenly getting off the wall in a hurry.

"What rumors?" she asked, having never been properly told what exactly people speculated upon her return. She crossed her arms tightly over her chest, glaring at him. "I never heard of any _rumors_."

Dennis' eyes shifted to Draco briefly, who placed a hand gently on her shoulders as the reporter spoke again. "No one enlightened you? Blimy! I thought at least Harry and Ron-"

"_What_ rumors Dennis?" she pressed, ignoring Draco's tightening grip on her shoulder. She shook him off, looking just as determined as before.

He looked uncomfortable briefly, fidgeting with his camera. "Well, everyone knows security at Azkaban has taken a pitfall, and you were there a long time alone…"

"Get to the point Dennis," she snapped, ignoring Draco's protesting hand. "What are people saying about me?"

Shrugging, he realized she really had no idea. "Some people said you lost your mind, especially since you returned and then had a stint and ran away from the reporters. Others thought Malfoy manipulated you," he continued, glancing again at the furious blond behind her, "but there were other dark rumors too, less pleasant rumors."

"Like?"

"Well, like I said security has gotten shitty. People can't get out of the prison, but cells aren't as secure as they maybe once were. And when you came back reports were made about your condition, people made estimations about your cell and well people's minds wandered…"

"Wandered to what Dennis?" she asked, flexing her fingers. She was starting to get tense. His explanations were beginning to sound a lot like the fears Draco shared concerning her wellbeing after Azkaban.

"Well if you were alone and wandless… and someone got into your cell-"

"I get the picture," she interjected quickly, holding up a hand. "It's great to know _that's _what everyone thinks when they look at me."

"Well not everyone-"

"Enough people," she snapped, stepping past him. "Thank you for enlightening me Dennis!"

She stormed down the path, irritated beyond words as she left the wedding. Her concerns about seeing her friends and asking Ron if he told his wife the ugly truth dashed away as her mind clouded, Dennis' words filling up her head.

"Hermione," Draco called, following her rushed footsteps. He caught up easily, grasping her hand only to have her whirl around on him.

"Is this why no one let me see the papers!?" she seethed, glaring at him. "When was someone going to come out and tell me that Britain thinks something awful happened to me in there?"

He held up his hands, slightly afraid to get any closer to her in such an angry state. "It didn't seem… relevant. You had to heal and deal with people who you actually cared about, not worry about what everyone in the fucking country thinks of you."

"It would have been nice to at least know. I thought those were just your fears Draco from the personal experience you had there. I didn't realize it was just the headline to stir up everyone's emotions in some bogus paper."

"Hermione-"

"You should have told me." She snapped, hands on her hips. "I have a right to know. Or at the very least someone could have shown me the articles! Instead everyone kept me in the dark. Now I know why the reporters are so antsy to get a statement, people want to know if I was raped!"

He stopped her then, firm hands pressed gently to her upper arms. "_Enough_. You were healing, and only recently have you stated acting like your former self. No one told you because you didn't need the extra baggage. And for the record, your _friends_ made a statement on your behalf about the rumors shortly after your return. They verified you weren't assaulted. People like Dennis whatever are just trying to get some sort of story out of you over something that didn't even happen. There hasn't been gossip about that for months Hermione."

She relaxed slightly in his arms, his hands still firm on her. "It just bothers me that no one told me. Maybe people aren't just staring at me because I came back from the dead, but also because of foul rumors like _that_."

Shrugging, he pulled her closer to his body, practically hugging the short girl. "People can think whatever they want. You're very strong, and you're doing just fine without the negativity those stories exude. The topic has been bypassed by now; it's a thing of the past. Don't let his words bother you now."

Hermione smiled then, relaxing against his hard body. "I suppose your right. I mean, I must seriously be out of my mind right now! I didn't let some bullshit article affect me when I was in fourth year, so why the hell should a couple of lies bother me now?"

"It's a much more sensitive topic," he muttered into her hair, fingers lightly tracing over her back. She sighed, content there for a moment, just letting him hold her close in his safe, loving embrace.

_Loving Hermione, really?_

He pulled away, giving her his trademark smirk. "I think someone took a few shots of us."

"Really?" she asked, glancing about as a blush tainted her cheeks. "Who?"

"It doesn't matter," he whispered, resting his forehead against hers. "Someone was bound to when we decided to attend together. Looks like you're going to be the star of a bit more gossip."

"I think I can handle some makeshift stories about a blossoming relationship between us," she giggled, her fingers lacing through his. "There are far worse things people could write about me."

He understood the depth of her words, and his expression softened just a hair. Testing his boundaries he leaned forward, kissing her opening in public - on the cheek. A blush stained her cheeks nonetheless.

"Let's go back home," he whispered, looping an arm through hers. She leaned in close to his body, happily taking in the warmth he provided against the brink air. He held her close, closer than he typically did. She would be a total liar if she said she didn't enjoy it.

* * *

"I didn't tell you because it hurts."

She paused mid sip, having nearly gotten to drink the steaming cup of tea in front of her. After their long day together all she wanted was a sense of normality, and that included their nightly tea - even if it was several hours too early.

"Beg pardon?"

Draco set his drink aside, sitting on the same sofa with her, their bodies touching lightly. He looked troubled as he spoke, as though it took effort to explain his simple sentence.

"The columns the newspaper printed about you? They were vulgar, before and after your return. Some turned you evil, yet others marveled you for the person you had always been. It was clear that no one actually knew the details of your situation, even after Potter and Weasley made a big show of defending you against the press upon your return."

She scooted closer, completely at awe that he was even sharing such details with her. Typically Draco was completely shut out and she had to pry to get him to answer her curious questions. To have him offer information up front was practically unheard of.

"Why didn't you just tell me?" she questioned. "Perhaps not at first if the articles were troubling, but at some point before this. I could have told you all the lies within the words."

He chuckled without humor, downing the drink in front of him quickly before continuing. "Those were my fears Hermione. I was afraid that the rumors about Azkaban, the traumatizing damage done - it could have all been true. The more we spent time together however, the more I learned about your time there and I knew there was no truth in the matter. Nothing happened to you that was any different from when I was there."

"So you had no need to present the papers to me?" she pressed, lips thinning into a line. "You learned that none of the rumors were true because we've been talking, and so you thought I didn't need to see what people gossiped about me."

"Part of me hoped you wouldn't care," he admitted truthfully, studying his floor with keen interest. "I hoped this would just be a surprise later in life, one that wouldn't anger and affect you. Since you're still trying to revert back into society I didn't press matters regarding the papers because they didn't seem important. After all, people have seen you handling yourself well in public. Most of the rumors are dashed now."

"I still have a right to see," she muttered, sipping her tea in the silence. "I mean, it is still about me."

Draco was silent for a long time, studying the coffee table now. Never did he think that an adventure out to a wedding would result in such an argument. Truth be told he never really did want to share the gruesome truth with her, but she was right - she had a right to know what was printed about her, even if he only sought to save her feelings.

"I can dig the articles up," he grumbled, startling her with the flip in conversation. "I can probably find the blasted things somewhere. Will you be satisfied if you read them?"

She frowned, not entirely sure why he was suddenly so bitter about her seeing them. Setting aside her forgotten drink she scooted closer, gently resting her hands atop his.

"Yes, I would be satisfied. You might have done it to protect me, but I still would like to know. I'm in a better state of mind than I used to be. I can handle it now."

Sighing, he rubbed the bridge between his nose. "Very well. I'll look for them tomorrow."

Hermione nodded, finally leaning back in her seat. He remained quiet for a long time after that, before excusing himself to his room. She stayed behind, staring at the two cold beverages in front of her.

It was a confusing night to say the least, and she didn't accomplish exactly what she set out to do. Tuesday held the same worries in her mind, and she was beginning to wonder exactly how a visit to Malfoy Corporations would go.

* * *

Day 278

Ron.

She had owled him yesterday morning, and still had no response. Clearly she was bothering the hell out of his honey moon but she desperately needed to know if he was being truthful with his brand new wife. It was hard to imagine him being so shady and cruel to someone he obviously loved, but he did slip and kiss her. She just wanted to ensure Lavender would be treated well.

How backwards was that from just two years before? Sixth year she would have done anything to make Lavender unhappy, _and_ to keep her away from Ron.

"Ready?" she sighed, popping her head into Draco's room. He had been brooding since the wedding, his affections less kind and more robotic. Hermione desperately missed him holding her close at night, even if nightmares were scarce amongst her dreams these days. He kept his hands to himself recently, and often started the night facing away from her. She no longer felt extremely welcome in his room.

The nightly tea stopped. They hadn't sat down and taken the time to sip and talk in two days. Hermione missed that more than anything else between them. She missed their friendly, honest conversations.

He was hiding something, she was sure of it.

"As I'll ever be," he groaned. "Now Hermione, when we get there please stay close won't you? I know we've practiced some spells together, but you're still very out of practice with magic. Most everyone I have been able to think of who might be a problem was fired long before we started talking about the business. Still, I don't know if I missed a sinister person or two who might snap at the sight of you. Stay close until we get to my office."

"Why don't we just floo to your office?" she questioned, tilting her head.

"Well, I haven't exactly been to the office since I bought this place. From the Manor we could floo directly into the right room, but the floo network doesn't connect the office to this fireplace. We'll have to take the elevator on arrival."

She nodded, following his lead to the offices. Less than excited that he was being so overbearing about a simple trip out, she took a moment to gather herself before following in Draco's wake.

_Stop being so tense. He's just worked up - something you haven't seen in a while. He'll get over his brooding mood soon, and then maybe he'll bloody smile again. I miss that stupid smile._

Her emotions were all over the place, conflicted with how to handle Draco. He really wasn't being that out of sorts, but just enough for her to notice. After all, it's not like his added affection was a requirement to this arrangement.

_It's just my favorite bloody part._

Sighing she grabbed some powder, following Draco's lead to Malfoy Corporations. The longer she lingered behind the more she would worry him. He might start thinking something terrible happened to her, or she got bloody lost on the way.

_Stop over thinking things Hermione. You're going to worry yourself to death at this rate, and it's only been two days!_

* * *

Draco's business was nothing short of extravagant, just as Hermione suspected it would be. The bloody building was eight floors, spanning out over the length of an entire block, plus all the magic inside made it even bigger. She had already convinced herself that dark activity took place here during the war, especially with all of the rooms available.

Glancing over the papers in front of her she glared at Draco across the desk. He was doing his best not to watch her, and he was failing miserably.

"You've been avoiding this as long as possible," she said matter-of-factly, looking at papers from months ago. "Have you even attempted to come in and sort things out? Your secretary practically fell off his chair when we walked in."

"I haven't wasted my time trying to fix the problems here," he said with a shrug. "I hate this place, and when I could spend time at my home with you instead of idling away here I preferred it that way."

She blushed. Draco hadn't said anything so complimentary in days, his mood being too sour to say much at all. Apparently he noted the shift in atmosphere too, and dropped his eyes to the wood of the desk. Hermione cleared her throat awkwardly.

"Well… why don't you hook up the floo now for when we come back? I can take whatever seems necessary and we can go back to the flat. It'll be better anyway, and then you can help me sort through everything. I don't know all the employees, but you can go through the lists and remove anyone of dark nature."

He nodded thoughtfully, disappearing to the far side of the room to fix the floo. She moved to his side of the desk, ignoring the atmosphere around her as she gathered up what she needed. Shuffling through the papers she was a note drop, and reached for it only for her hand to pause over the paper.

_Destroy magazine covers. Call Daily Prophet and Witch Weekly about vulgar comments and ridiculous assumptions. Make sure Potter's campaign to right her name is backed._

She glanced towards the blond, still working to connect the fireplaces, her fingers dancing over the slip of paper. Even before she was out of Azkaban, he was protecting her.

Hermione smiled. Draco cared for her, even if he didn't always show it. Scooting the note back so he could find it himself again later she collected the rest of the things she wanted to take, realizing he had been watching over her all along.

Draco really was sentimental towards her, and he'd probably die if she told someone that.

* * *

"Please don't roll away."

He frowned, glancing over at her as he prepared to sleep. She had set aside the paperwork not so long ago, and they were preparing to sleep. But her warm hand on his arm stopped his actions, causing him to arch an eyebrow at her.

"I'm getting comfortable."

A gentle pull to his arm convinced him to roll back to his back again, watching her keenly as she moved closer, snuggling hesitantly against his hard body.

"Stay this way," she sighed, closing her eyes as he gathered the blankets. "I like sleeping with you, not away from you."

Draco inhaled sharply, the scent of her body wash attaching his nose as he pulled her closer. No matter what he seemed to do, Hermione was always ready to pull him back towards her again, and remind him that someone out there really cared for him.

They sat together for a long time in silence, her rhythmic breathing soothing his mind, and the articles lay forgotten in the background of his thoughts. He gently kissed the top of her head, hearing her shift slightly at the action.

He kissed the side of her head, and she shifted again so she could sleepily look up at him. Their eyes met briefly, and he recalled how sweet those brown orbs always looked.

She leaned up, gently brushing her lips against his. Draco met the action, a hand moving to gently hold her head in place so they could kiss properly. Hermione inhaled quickly, her arm around his middle tightening as the kiss deepened.

The pair sat together, kissing feverishly as the night grew darker, and midnight passed as he peppered kisses along her jaw, lips, neck, anywhere to let her know how much he had desperately fallen in love with her.

The sheets became crumpled around their bodies as they kissed, and he slowly eased the process until she lulled to sleep against the softness of his kisses on her neck. For a long time after she passed out Draco lay there playing with her hair, simply watching her.

He felt exuberant. If he could kiss her all the time it would be perfect, and he would never have another problem in the world. Even when he was stressed or irritated she always found a way to relax him and make him feel different. This was an emotion Draco was not so familiar with.

Draco felt happiness. Hermione made him feel good about life, better about himself than anyone ever had.

Draco Malfoy was _happy._ Honest to Merlin, against the grain, _happy_.

* * *

**A/n:** I wanted to have this story finished by Christmas. Clearly that isn't going to happen. But perhaps as a New Year's gift? Send some thoughts through dearies! I would love to know what you think of the newest installment.

The next chapter maybe the last, I haven't decided yet. If not, then there will only be ten chapters total, but we'll see where the words take me. Thanks to everyone for being patient and sticking with this story! You guys are some amazing reviewers :)


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: To those still reading this, welcome back. I didn't really think I would ever finish this story, but something in me decided it was time to pick up fanfiction again. I've been doing a lot of writing on the side for novels, and I've been slowly preparing to learn some additional languages to broaden my scope of writing. I hope this conclusion is satisfactory to everyone who stuck with the story, and to those newcomers who found it. Shoot me a review if you feel so obliged at the end, and let me know what you think. Hopefully there will be some new stories here in the future. **

Day 596

He stood behind her, watching the witch as she presented the enterprise to the press. He did his speech, but nothing he said could ever draw people's attention the way her words did. It was hard to believe this was the same witch he dragged out of Azkaban one year ago.

Gone were the signs of abuse, her distance from others and her dividing walls between friends. Harry and Ginny sat near the front of the audience, watching their friend with large eyes and broad grins. Sweeping the crowd he noticed Ron Wealsey and his wife a row or two back, a small bundle held fast against the woman's chest. He hadn't attended any of the conferences up until this point, and Draco was a little surprised that he was here now.

His eyes lingered mostly on Hermione, who caught the attention of everyone in the crowd. Her speech might've started out with a bit of stumbling and stuttering, but no one seemed to remember her rocky beginning. Between her smile and the crisp, clean pronunciation of each individual word it was hard to believe she had any qualms at all about getting on that stage.

Draco smiled at her, listening to her boast Malfoy Corporation, the once prestigious name shattered after the war. Now, months after he finally agreed to let her aid his ever-failing plans to dig the company out of recess, they were reopening the company after a full month of being closed.

It was Hermione's idea really. Purge the hallways and rooms of everything racist and bigoted that settled in the walls for the past century. Gone were the posters demeaning anyone lesser than a Pureblood, the graffiti etched into stone by a wand and the age old employees who couldn't be changed, even after the war. Those who refused to work alongside muggle-borns and halfbloods were removed from the company permanently.

If Draco had his way, the company would've worked through its rough spot without shutting down and cleaning the building of all its hate. He would've found a way to do it, he was sure. But without Hermione's confidence and community's love for her, he doubted the change would've made a difference. Without her trusting him first, no one else would have ever decided he was being sincere about employing muggleborns, not after so many years of racism.

Lost in thought, he hardly noticed when she finished speaking and the crowd in front of them rose into a round of applause. He stood as well a second too late, clapping a bit too loudly behind her. She glanced over her shoulder, the smile she sent him more radiant than the sun over their heads.

He barely even noticed when they handed him a pair of enlarged scissors to cut the ribbon in front of the store.

* * *

"You really do look a mess," she giggled quietly, walking among the new employees of Draco's company. They didn't glare at her anymore when she passed, the bigoted, judging employee's banished some time ago. If the world called for change, then people had to learn to change with it. Those who were unwilling to give it a try weren't given a second chance.

"I wouldn't look _anything _if you didn't spill it on me."

Hermine chuckled, waving her wand and watching the wine disappear from Draco's crisp white shirt. She straightened the collar, ignoring the way he breathed in sharply when her fingers trailed across the skin of his neck. She smiled, teeth gleaming white in the new lighting of the building.

"You know everyone's impressed," she continued, dragging her hands from his skin. "With the business I mean. Harry didn't really believe you were serious about reform until you shut the facility down last month."

"So I've heard," he grumbled, eyes dancing across the gathered crowd in search of Scarhead. "And he couldn't just tell me himself?"

She nudged him, slipping between two gathered groups in the hallway. "It's a big change Draco. The press ate this story up for months. You might not be the first Pureblood to change your ways, but you're setting an example for the remaining old families to change their views too."

"I know. People keep saying that. I didn't do any of this to be an example to anyone."

Grinning, she gripped his hand and dragged him along the hall. "I know."

Stepping down the corridor was like walking through your home after someone else owned it for ten years. He knew every path by heart, and he even knew in advance the changes that would take place in the establishment. But it all felt like a dream, and he was only a viewer to what took place. Even now the newly painted walls felt foreign, and so many people lingering around was something he might never grow used to.

He let Hermione drag him along, stopping occasionally to speak to someone. He would acknowledge the conversation, smirking whenever someone commented on the new building and the changes that they could see. He watched their eyes attempt to focus on the couple's faces, but the always drifted down instead to where their hands remained intertwined, a question always bubbling up in their throat. Draco made sure that they left before anyone could question them.

It's not like they needed answers anyway. The press gave them everything they were going to get.

_"__Do you think Potter will lecture me?" Draco asked one morning, groggily pouring himself a cup of coffee. Hermione made the drink herself, the muggle way that admittedly tasted better but was a foreign concept to Draco._

_She laughed. "I think Harry is always going to lecture you Draco, just like you're always going to egg him on. If that ever changes I'll know something's wrong."_

_It'd been a week since Draco showed her his failing business, and already she had more paperwork organized and in place than all his ancestors combined. Even if the business worked in ways Hermione didn't approve of, it never worked more efficiently than right now. _

_But that wasn't what Draco focused on, not really. He let his eyes trail her a moment, the way her curves moved with her, the way her locks fell around her shoulders when she bent across the table for another piece of toast. Even the way her nose wrinkled in irritation drew his attention._

_He caught her hand when she moved to grab the coffee from him, creamer in her other hand. He turned her arm over, kissing the skin of her inner wrist instead, causing the girl to giggle._

_"__Honestly, you are impossible this morning! How am I ever going to get anything done?" she asked, setting aside the creamer so she could wrap her arms around his neck. _

_"__You know, this is why the press has pictures," he replied, smirking when their foreheads fell together. "You just can't keep your hands off me."_

_Hermione groaned, dragging her fingertips over his bare skin as she drew back. "I see you're blaming me for your actions again. I'm not the one who thought it'd be a splendid idea to kiss in the gardens! I mean honestly Draco, we knew the party would be swarmed with cameras."_

_"__All good parties are."_

_She wrinkled her nose. "I'm also not the one who thought the middle of the lawn was a good place to snog either. We couldn't at least hide behind a bush first?"_

_"__I'm not going to hide behind anything to kiss you," he replied, taking a sip of the black coffee. He scowled, setting the bitter drink down and sliding it across the glass table, letting her catch it on the other side. Hermione smirked, knowing he wouldn't like his coffee so bitter like that. "I am an adult. If I'm going to kiss someone, it will be out in the open."_

_"__Then you must reap the consequences." Smirking she stood from the table, briskly walking across the room to the window. Dragging back the drapes a fraction she peered out into the midmorning world, noting the few people stalking around the front of the complex. "They really think we won't floo out?"_

_"__When you don't know where people are going, the best place to start is square one!" Draco called from the kitchen, pulling over some of her notes about the company. "They'll be following us for days. We're the newest piece of gossip."_

_She let the curtain fall back into place, knowing the concealment wards on the apartment would keep anyone down below from noticing the movement. She turned back towards the table, eyes drifting down to where different articles of publication sat, something Draco once kept locked away in his room. _

_Sitting on the sofa she picked up the newspaper articles, folded over so many times they were practically unreadable at this point. Her fingers dragged across the picture of her, one she didn't remember taking. _

_There she was, lying on a stretcher as a healer tried to adjust her outside the gates of Azkaban. She didn't recall any of this, knowing by that time she'd passed out from exhaustion and malnourishment. Draco was directly next to her, the stray photographer some distance away. In the background she could see Harry and Ron coming out of the prison as well, several paces behind the blond._

_He'd finally told her about the rumors, uncovered articles he supposedly never kept. After their blowout the night of Ron's wedding, he finally realized she would never let the topic settle. Hermione liked knowing the ins and outs of things, and in this case she liked knowing what made people believe she'd gone so insane. Until she saw the articles, the crude words splattered across white, stressed paper, she'd never realized how cruel media could be._

_There was a reason Draco never felt inclined to give her the papers until now._

_After everything she expected there to be more than four. But Draco told her that Harry and Ron never wanted her name slandered, and even if media wouldn't listen to him they did honor the wishes of the Boy Who Lived. The fourth article was printed only three days after Hermione's return to the world, and since then no more articles were published._

_With a sigh she picked the four pages up. Someone who wrote for Witch Weekly took these photos on a whim and sold them to the magazine. She checked and rechecked, certain that the person had to be Rita Skeeter. Even though Harry assured her the publicist wasn't her age old enemy, Hermione wasn't convinced for many days. _

_The person got themselves into the Daily Prophet due to their article on her. Britain wanted to know what happened to her after the fall of Voldemort, and other than Draco's ramblings there were never any leads. That earned the writer two more articles thereafter, until it was finally put to a stop. Even now, the name of the reporter meant nothing to Hermione. She never knew him, yet he was more than willing to drag her reputation through the dirt. _

_She tore the articles in half, startling the blond on the couch. He immediately came to her side, watching her tear different pieces a second and then third time. When she finished she magicked away the mess._

_When he didn't speak she glanced up, noting the way his eyes seemed to study her. "I was just going to burn them," he muttered, a smirk pulling at his lips. "I suppose destroying them is more satisfying."_

_"__I let all these people believe rumors about me," she muttered, staring at him. "The press controlled how the world saw me. And none of you thought it important enough to tell me the truth."_

_"__Hermione-"_

_"__I understand now" she continued, speaking as though he hadn't interrupted. "You were all trying to protect me. And considering what the articles made me into… perhaps you were right to hide them from me in the beginning. I might not have reacted well when I was still healing. But you should've told me before someone else got around to it. The reality of everything might've hurt less that way."_

_"__I didn't mean for you to learn about it that way," he argued, watching the way her eyes dropped to the table again. "I knew – we all knew – you'd find out the truth someday. It was inevitable. I only spoke to Potter alone once since all this began, and it's the only conversation that didn't end in arguing. When things cleared and everyone started realizing that for one reason or another, you seemed to trust me the most, he decided I should tell you what happened. I just didn't really know how to."_

_She nodded. "So you kept the articles as proof?"_

_"__I kept them as reminders," he said, meeting her eyes. "I didn't want to forget how horrible they were, even if it might be better that way. I figured if I owed you the truth, I owed you the whole truth."_

_Hermione nodded again, reaching across the space between them for his hand. He arched an eyebrow, letting his thumb rub against her knuckles. "Thank you for telling me. It might not be the greatest news, but I'm glad to know now."_

_"__Are you really sure about that?"_

_She stood, grinning at him. "The press got away with so much because I wasn't here to defend myself. I couldn't get a word in to sway the way people saw me, the pity they were feeling. The press won't get the best of me again."_

_"__Well I doubt they really have anything else quite so terrible."_

_Ignoring his jab, she stepped back towards the window. Even with the curtain drawn a breeze still found its way in through the open space. She drew the curtain back further this time, again acknowledging the reporters down below, trying to blend in with the dwindling crowd. They really did stick out, if for no other reason than the fact that they kept glancing up. She figured they would never forget their address now._

_"__We'll have to move sometime. I don't think I can handle the press outside the building every day. Are you sure you can't just ward off the entire complex?"_

_"__Management is against the idea," Draco muttered. "They want people to only worry about their own spaces. It's a wonder I haven't bought a bloody house yet. At least then no one can tell me how to live."_

_"__What about the Manor?" she asked, glancing back over her shoulder. Despite everything they hadn't ever breached the topic of his childhood home, even though it was someplace strangely familiar to them both. "You won't ever go back."_

_Shrugging, he stood from the table to reach her side, wrapping an arm around her waist. "There's nothing to go back to."_

It wasn't entirely true. He let her drag him along through the halls again, her hair swinging back and forth as they moved. They were higher up in the building now, away from milling crowds. Draco didn't have to be a genius to know where she was going.

Partnership wasn't something Draco was too familiar with, much less something he had experience with. So the idea of sharing an office with someone was taboo, and the idea of it being Hermione Granger was enough to make his father roll over in his grave. Yet the office looked so much more homey with two desks instead of one, and the fact that they were of equal size seemed to emphasize the equality in the room.

"I was just going over sales this morning," Hermione stressed, dropping his hand as they entered. "I was looking at your regional sales, compared with the international sales you have between distributors in Ireland and Whales, not to mention the income you receive from France though my French really isn't up to reading that many words-"

"I thought you spent the morning badgering Scarhead about this meeting. You really wanted him to get work off so he could show."

"Oh, Harry wouldn't disappoint me," she said airily, waving the comment away. "At least, never again. I just have to remind him of these things. He's absolutely terrible at remembering plans."

Draco smirked, watching her shuffle different folders around as she organized her desk. Compared to his where folders were strewn about and he had parchment everywhere, you couldn't see one thing out of order on her side. It was only moderately infuriating.

"I was thinking about homes the other day," she remarked, breaking the silence between them. "I know you're ready to destroy the apartment."

"I just don't like the small space. My money isn't frozen anymore, and I'm certainly not in debt. We make a lot of money together. There's no reason to stay in that dingy apartment."

"It's not that dingy."

He smirked. "That's because you keep adding lights."

Hermione grinned, reaching across the desk to grasp his hand. "So you want to move out then? I have a lot of recommendations for places to live."

"Half of them are muggle I suppose?"

"Absolutely. They have such beautiful neighborhoods. And the press won't notice us if we are out of the wizarding world half the time."

He nodded, thinking over the suggestion as she collapsed into her chair. Plucking a quill from the tabletop she picked at the feathered end, not meeting his eyes. Wandering around the desk he sat on the edge, forcing her to focus on him again.

"Wherever you want to live Granger," he whispered, fingers brushing over her jawline. "Even a muggle neighborhood. I'll go with you."

She cocked an eyebrow. "Last time you weren't so sure. You actually denied me a couple times."

"I wasn't thrilled," he admitted, "but I know it's more out of the way, and we'll have more privacy there. Things are hard enough here right now. We can glamour the place so people don't wonder where we go all day, or get someplace with hedges to hide the house."

"And you wouldn't be oh so ashamed to live in such a place with me?" she asked, leaning closer to him. Her big brown eyes sparkled, her interest in the question growing.

Draco shook his head, smiling. "Like I said, wherever you want to live, it's up to you. I'd go anywhere for you."

* * *

Day 641

"I knew you would hate that color," she laughed, twirling around the home. While he went out to work today she spent the time decorating and organizing the entire place. She doubted he would ever lose anything again.

"It's so _red_," he stressed, looking around. "So horrendously red."

"I love the color."

"You're a Gryffindor," Draco grunted, ignoring her growing smile. "You tend to like red."

"At least the walls aren't red."

"No, you seem to have reserved that for the furniture. This couch is as bad as the leather I bought for the apartment."

"No," she argued, a smirk starting to form on her lips, "my furniture is at least comfortable."

He shook his head, taking in the living room again. At least everything wasn't red, and the accents dialed down how very red the couches were. It could've been a million times worse.

"I see you also took the liberty of alphabetizing the books."

"They are by genre too," she continued, stepping over to the bookcase. "I wanted to be able to find everything quickly. I just love being able to find everything."

She started rattling off everything, from books he'd bought her in the past months to the ones her friends saved in her absence. He knew she had a lot, but seeing it all in one place put into perspective how much she actually owned. Besides, she borrowed books from the library all the time. He could barely imagine how many she ripped through at night when he was preoccupied.

Watching her talk so passionately about what she loved brought a smile to his face. Seeing how happy she was in their new place made it even better. Standing back, watching her adore what they had together, he'd never felt more at home.

* * *

Day 811

Even from a distance, Draco looked ridiculous in a Santa hat. Earlier she threw the cap over his head, explaining the muggle story of St. Nick. Apparently it was a stranger concept than she realized, as it took several attempts to make him understand this really was a bedtime story, and not a nightmare come alive.

She just didn't expect him to keep the cap on. It really bleached out his hair, making him seem closer to the old man from the story than he realized. Now if he were just a little pudgier and had a beard, the look would really work.

He caught her staring, the plateful of cookies in her hand. He cringed at the sight, and she couldn't help but laugh. After all this time, Draco knew that she was a decent cook, but a terrible baker.

"Relax," she giggled, setting down the dessert. "I picked these up from Harry's earlier. Ginny really takes after her mom; she's an amazing cook. These ones won't even kill you."

"And they aren't hard like the last batch."

"I could throw one at your shirt and we could test that theory," she teased, stepping towards him. They'd bought a tree for Christmas this year. Last year, her first Christmas out of Azkaban, they spent all their time celebrating amongst friends. She missed the festivities of the year before and the feel of friends close by for the holiday. Last Christmas was dedicated to making up for her failed holiday. This year she had something else to focus on.

"You know," he whispered, brushing back her hair, "the star really pales in comparison to the ring I bought you."

Her gaze drifted down to the new ring on her finger. Sitting on her ring finger, the diamond glowed brighter than any decoration in the room. She shook her head, smirking at him.

"I think you're just using that as an excuse to brag."

"Well you refused a big stone," he whined, glancing down at the ring, "so I made sure I bought the brightest diamond in Britain."

A smile tugged at her lips as she examined the ring a second time. It was nothing over the top, unlike some of Draco's other gifts. It was definitely a ring she wouldn't mind wearing for a lifetime.

She tried to picture herself back in Azkaban, losing hope as her days ticked by. Never would she have expected that she'd be standing beside Draco in a home that they owned, eyeing a Christmas tree while they talked about the engagement ring on her finger. If she started thinking about that in Azkaban, she surely would've thought she was going mad.

"Did the Potter's see?" he asked, grasping her hand. He kissed her cheek, feeling her expression stretch to a grin beneath his lips.

"No, Ginny was running around so much trying to get her son to actually help her that she hardly paid me any attention when I came over. Her back was to me most of the time while we talked, so she could either cook something, or ask Harry why the tree wasn't up yet. I thought maybe we could tell everyone tomorrow."

"You still want to go to Weasley's dinner?"

"Ron's dinner," Hermione whispered, giving him a meaningful look. After all this time, he still hadn't warmed up to her former boyfriend. She wondered if he ever would. "And yes, I would."

"And you really think that's the time to tell them? For all we know this is the announcement of baby number three. Merlin knows how Lavender handles it all."

She grinned, turning to gently slap his shoulder. "She's happy Draco. They just let their lives take off faster than ours."

"They really didn't have that many hardships either, other than Weasley's blunder right before the marriage. We've had a bit more to work through."

"And now we don't have anything. Think about it Draco, the timing is perfect. Even Blaise and Pansy will be there. I can't believe how close of friends she and Lavender became."

He nodded his agreement, reaching down to kiss her hand. "Okay, we'll do it tonight."

And she smiled, standing up on her toes to kiss him on the lips. Drawing back, she straightened the cap on his head, thinking how much could change over time. "Merry Christmas Draco."

"Merry Christmas Hermione."

_~FIN~_


End file.
